The Jabberjay
by Shelley G
Summary: It takes more than a little girl and a handful of berries to start a rebellion. Katniss Everdeen may have inspired the Districts, but I'm the one who made the Girl on Fire. I am the monster of the Capitol's own making. I am the Jabberjay.
1. Chapter 1

Haymitch sits, slumped in his chair, a half-drunk bottle of liquor in his hand. The bottle never leaves his hand, but he drinks from it less often now. He is still drunk, his face flushed puffy from years of overindulgence and his sense dimmed from ignoring the many things he didn't want to see, but now he is at least sober enough to help the two kids in the arena.

He half watches the two sixteen-year-olds on the monitor as he chokes down some more of his liver killing drink. In the Capitol, everything we do is for amusement, to indulge our senses, to make our empty existence full with temporary thrills. I have seen many drunks in the Capitol, but none like Haymitch Abernathy. Here in the Capitol we drink to feel alive. Haymitch drinks to draw himself one step closer to death.

They are killing him, these particular tributes. This pair is just the latest in a long line of glorified human sacrifices to slake the Capitol's insatiable appetite for carnage. In all, he has mentored forty-eight tributes over the past twenty-four years, but these two are different.

Katniss and Peeta are my first tributes. There were forty-six other tributes before I became the District 12 escort for this game. Haymitch has drowned out their faces in a drunken stupor. He knew he couldn't get them home, not a single one of them, so he didn't even try. I don't think he has tried at anything since the last cannon blew at the fiftieth Hunger Games. It was there, at the Second Quarter Quell, that the man who Haymitch Abernathy was supposed to become died at the hand of the Capitol. In the arena, his world was ripped apart and he never managed to piece it back together.

I don't care what propaganda the Capitol sells, no one survives the Hunger Games. Victor's may leave the arena, but no one who has met a victor can say they came out alive.

It has been almost exactly twenty-four years since Haymitch left that arena and he still hasn't found himself. I don't know if he ever will, but at least he is trying again. He is trying to help these tributes. I'm not sure if he even knows why he is doing this, why these two are different to him, but I do. He sees in them his only tragic fate, and whether he knows it or not, he's trying to stop history from repeating itself.

With the new revision to rules of the game, there exist the slightest possibility that both Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark could make it home. That is, if the Capitol played fair, which they do not. They never have played fair. They are just working towards the most epic ending in Hunger Game history: Two lovers pitted against each other in a fight to the death.

I'm not so much of a fool as to think that President Snow plans for this game to end any other way.

"I don't want it to come down to the two of them." I whisper, the nerves that have been twisting my insides since I drew their names from the bowl, worsen. I have seen the games played for years, I have stood idly by knowing that there was nothing that I could do yet, knowing that I had to bide my time, but this time it's different. I drew their names. Katniss and Peeta… Their blood will be on my hands.

I can't stop watching the screen. I stand beside Haymitch's chair, but I do not sit. I cannot sit. I am too anxious.

Katniss tends to Peeta's wounds, but the boy is in bad shape. They'll be lucky if they can move from the riverbank, let alone find decent shelter. But they are survivors. If anyone can beat the odds, it will be the two of them. I can't bring myself to call it winning, the victor's win nothing but a lifetime of nightmares and guilt. Those who die quickly in the arena are the lucky ones.

But Katniss is so much like Haymitch, far too stubborn to die. And Peeta, well he has something to live for, something he loves. If I understand him as well as I think I do, he will not go quietly in the night. He will survive, because Katniss needs him to survive. But in the end it won't matter. The Capitol will only allow one of them to come home. The revision is a trick, they just don't see it yet, which only makes the deception that much more cruel.

I feel Haymitch's eyes on me. I glance over at him. His eyes are much clearer than they have been since I collected him from his mansion in a drunken stupor. They are still glassy from too much drink, but they are no longer lost in an unreachable stupor.

"Whatever do you mean Effie?" He asks condescendingly. "The Capitol says two can come home, surely you don't think they'll break their word."

I roll my eyes and glare at him, holding back a biting retort. He smirks for a second, but then his expression shifts. His eyes flash dangerously. There is a crazed look in his eyes. He sees something that he has never noticed before. I know what he has recognized, even before he does. Seam eyes.

Nervously, I adjust my wig. It was a gesture originally assumed as part of this adopted persona, but over the years it's become natural, as natural as the Capitol accent I've perfected and the unfamiliar face that greets me every time I look in the mirror.

But he can see it now, the merchant blue eyes. Maybe it's the lack of alcohol in his system. Maybe it's just the first time he has actually looked at me. Maybe it's because he's finally ready to see the truth. He stares intently into my shockingly blue eyes.

"Who are you?" He whispers.

I plaster on my best Capitol smile and prepare to speak the familiar lie. I am Effie Trinket. Forty years old, though I tell everyone that I'm thirty-five, and after years as a socialite, I have finally procured a coveted position as a District escort. But before the words make it past my lips, he grabs my wrist and pulls me toward him.

His grip is so tight that it hurts. He pulls me so close that I can feel his hot, sour, liquor-laced breath on my face. The smell makes my eyes water. I look away from him, but his other hand grabs my chin and forces me to face him. Our eyes meet again. I stare into his steel gray eyes. They seem so focused and years of drinking have been erased in a split second. For a moment he is the young man who beat the odds and won the fiftieth Hunger Games, much to the displeasure of the powers that be.

For the first time in twenty-four years, I think he might be ready for the truth. I glance past him to be sure we are still alone, though I know that we are never completely alone. Not in the Capitol, where even the walls have ears. I lean in closer to him until my lips brush against his ear and I whisper softly, so as not to be overheard.

"We'd live longer the two of us."

Haymitch jerks back as though I have physically struck him. He stares at me wordlessly. For the first time ever, Haymitch Abernathy is completely thrown for a loop. Recognition dawns slowly in his gray eyes as he looks past the changes the years and surgical alterations have made to my face. His gaze peels back the secrets and lies to see the truth underneath.

"I guess you just proved that." He replies with a smirk, trying to regain his trademark detachment, but he doesn't quite succeed. I can see a the traces of grief and longing through the cracks in his expression.

With those six words I know he knows everything. Not the details, but he knows the truth. Effie Trinket has never existed. It is the identity of a girl who had to disappear in plain sight. Before him is none other than Maysilee Donner. The girl who he thought had died in his arms. The girl who beat the Capitol at their own game.

I look away from Haymitch and notice Katniss on the screen. The pin on her shirt. The Mockingjay, her token, but it was my token first. The bird that is a slap in the face to the Capitol. The little bird that was never meant to exist. The unintended muttation. Everything that Katniss is, I have orchestrated. She is my greatest creation.

I may have worn it during my game, but in truth I was never the Mockingjay. The Capitol choose me, made me what I am. I am their creation. Their muttation. Katniss is their mistake and my great triumph, she truly is the Mockingjay. The Capitol didn't plan for her to be in the Games. And now she mocks them, forcing them to change their rules. Capturing the heart of the districts with her song.

I am not the Mockingjay. I made the Mockingjay. Katniss may be an explosion, but I've been playing the long con. I've been moving pieces into place for twenty-four years. I will play the Capitol for the fools they are, and they will not see me coming until it is too late.

I am alive even though the Capitol decreed that I should die for a crime that was not my own. My face may not be my own, but I am still the girl from the Seam. I undermine the Capitol and everything they stand for with every breath I take. I am what they made me, and it will be the monster of their own creation that destroys them in the end.

They underestimated the power of a single life and that will be their downfall. I have become more than they ever imagined a child from the weakest District could be. I am more than a victim, more than a survivor, more than a person.

I am the Jabberjay.

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	2. Chapter 2

Only a fool would deny that Haymitch Abernathy is a dangerous man. That's what happens when you have nothing left to lose. You become recklessly dangerous, willing to sacrifice anything and everything in pursuit of your goals. Haymitch is a grave danger to me and the mission I have to complete. But the truth is Haymitch has always been a danger to me, only the type of danger he presented has changed.

I knew from the first moment I met him, that he would ruin me. It was something about his eyes. They were cold, calculating, and as gray as steel, but they also had a fierce intelligence and a disarming charm that caught me off guard.

I was fifteen years old when I met him. As the daughter of a merchant, I had been taught to avoid associating with the riffraff from the Seam. My friends consisted for my twin sister, Melody and our lifelong friend, the apothecary's daughter Carlene Graydon. We lived in town and I spent the majority of my free time in Carlene's fathers shop. Carlene was a gifted healer, taking after her father, and often spent her afternoons helping her father care for people injured in accidents at the mine. There was never a shortage of injured people in district twelve.

I didn't possess Carlene's knack for healing, I found sickness and injury frightful, honestly, but I did have a way with plants. I had no gift for soothing the injured, but I could concoct salves and mixtures that impressed even Mr. Graydon. So while he tended to costumers and Carlene tended to the injured, I would mix and mash a variety of plants. I just had a knack for knowing what combinations would result in the most soothing balm. I would write down my recipes, and once they proved useful, Mr. Graydon would produce them for his clients to alleviate their ailments in place of scarce Capitol medicine.

It was in that very shop that I met Haymitch. He was also fifteen at the time. We were in the same year in school, but he and I ran in such different circles that I didn't even know his face. To me, he was just another Seam boy, same eyes, same dark hair and olive skin as all the other seam children. The only thing I saw when I looked at a boy were the words "off limits".

Marrying into the Seam meant giving up the life you had. I didn't live in the lap of luxury, but I was not starving like most of the children I passed in the hallways of the school. I always tried to ignore their glassy eyes and hollow cheeks because the very sight of them made my insides twist with guilt. I couldn't understand why we lived in a world where the Capitol had so much excess while those of us in the districts barely survived, but it was not my place to question.

Since Haymitch was underage, he could not work in the mines yet, but that didn't stop him from making a living. While attempting to break up a fight in the Hob, his father had received a knife to the throat for his trouble, leaving Haymitch responsible for his mother and little brother. He did whatever it took to make sure they survived, but work was hard to come by, especially for a boy his age. So he hunted. He slipped under the rarely live electric fence and sustained his family off the wilderness.

The injury that brought him to the Graydon's apothecary shop was not an accident, it was punishment. It was a stifling summer day when an unconscious Haymitch was half dragged, half carried in by his friend, another Seam boy, a couple years his senior.

"Flynn." Carlene said in surprise at the sight of the Seam boy. I later learned that he often dropped off the plants I used in my slaves, which he had gathered in the woods Mr. Graydon. They had some sort of arrangement, which included a few coins quietly passed between them.

By the blush that seared Carlene's cheeks at his presence I was fairly certain that their relationship was more than the professional one that existed between him and her father. This surprised me, because his dark hair and gray eyes clearly marked him as a Seam boy. However, my thoughts on the topic were quickly brushed aside by the sight of Haymitch's back.

Carlene cleared a table and Flynn laid his unconscious friend on his stomach. The sight of the wounds made me want to retch, but I turned away before I lost control of my lunch. I took soothing breaths to calm my stomach before turning back to the horrible sight before me. Carlene began to wash away the blood and the individual lash marks became visible.

"Grime gave him about twenty lashes." Flynn explained as Carlene's fingers nimbly moved across the thrashed flesh, trying to save what she could of his skin. I knew Carlene was lost to the world. She was completely absorbed in healing the boy on the table. So I turned to the Seam boy that made my friend's cheeks turn scarlet.

"Why?" I asked. The boy gave me an odd look, as though considering whether or not he should divulge the details to the unfamiliar daughter of an unknown merchant.

"Someone reported him for crossing the fence."

"That's all?"

"When you're from the seam, that's enough." Flynn said.

My jaw fell open. I couldn't believe that this poor boy was so brutally punished for something so trivial. It seemed unnecessarily harsh, even for Head Peacekeeper Grime. My cheek burned with outrage and I began to mash a new concoction with zeal.

"That is… just so…" I so wanted to convey my indignation, but no word held the right power. I didn't even know the boy on the table, but I ached for his pain.

"I know." Flynn replied.

I pushed past him with my salve and lightly squeezed Carlene's shoulder. She looked at me with her usual daze when suddenly pulled from her zone.

"Use this." I told her, handing her the salve but she shook her hand.

"The wound has to set."

"No, use this now." I insisted, Carlene gave me a doubtful look. "Trust me."

Carlene nodded, knowing better than to doubt me. She knew if I said the salve would help, it would help. Gently she spread the mixture across the shredded skin. It drew a pained moan from the unconscious boy. I worried that he was regaining consciousness and hoped for his sake that he wasn't. Grabbing a stool I pulled it up beside the table and clutched his hand. His skin felt feverish to the touch. I hoped that my presence would offer him some comfort through the pain, he did not know me, but perhaps he would feel that I cared and that would be enough. Carlene finished applying the mixture and looked at me.

"Should I cover it?" She asked. I shook my head but didn't look at her. My eyes were fixed intently on the boy's face. I didn't know why but I felt for his pain deeply. I had witnessed the injuries of many of Carlene's father's patient's with nothing but intellectual detachment.

Carlene and Flynn spoke in hushed whispers and I gently brushed the boy's dark hair off his damp forehead. He moaned again and it ripped at my heart.

"Can we give him something for the pain?" I asked Carlene, glancing back at her over my shoulder.

"I only have sleeping syrup, and I can only give him that if he is awake." She said sadly. I nodded, I understood, I didn't like it, but I understood. Real medicine was difficult to come by in District twelve.

I looked over at the boy named Flynn.

"Should I go tell his family where he is?" I offered but Flynn shook his head.

"I'll get him home." Flynn replied but Carlene squawked in disagreement.

"He shouldn't be moved. He's going to take quite a bit of looking after." Carlene objected then her face fell and she looked at Flynn uncomfortably. "But I promised Mrs. Mellark I'd come to dinner."

A stony expression crossed his face and it wasn't a far leap for me to guess why. Brantley Mellark, the Baker's son, had nursed a very obvious crush on Carlene for as long as I could remember. Although, I wasn't sure the exact details of what exisited between Carlene and this Seam boy, it was quite clear he didn't like the idea of her associating with the Baker's son. I could understand that, Flynn clearly had a crush on Carlene as well, but what future could a boy from the Seam offer a merchant's daughter, a lifetime of barely scraping by, always trying to keep one step ahead of starvation? No, it would not do.

Brantley was the Baker's only son and would certainly one day inherit the store. He could offer Carlene a comfortable life. He was the only sensible choice. But the looks that passed between Flynn and Carlene were far from sensible.

Flynn looked from his friend to Carlene. "What do you want me to do then?"

"I'll look after him, until Carlene gets back." The offer popped out of my mouth before I could stop it. Carlene gave me a strange look because she was well aware of how uncomfortable I was with the sick and afflicted. I looked over at Flynn. "What's his name?"

"Haymitch," Flynn told me. "Haymitch Abernathy."

There was another whispered conversation between the two and Flynn assured Carlene he would be back the next day to check on his friend. He told her that Haymitch's mother would be worried so he would just pop by and let her know everything was okay. Then he was gone. Carlene came up beside me and rested her hand on my shoulder.

"Maysi, are you sure you're okay with this?" She asked her expression concerned. She was well aware of my limitation and she was a good friend, she never wanted to put me in a position that would be too much for me.

"It's fine." I assure her. "Just tell me what I should do if he wakes up."

Carlene gathered everything I could possibly need on a nearby table and gave me detailed instructions before she left to freshen up. I left the boy named Haymitch to get a pitcher of water and a cloth. I soaked the cloth in the cold water and laid it over his hot, sticky brow.

His eyes snapped open and he stared at me, his gray eyes capturing mine. They were so focused, so aware. He seemed ready to fend off an attack, but I knew he was far too injured for something like that. I could see the pain in his eyes, but he watched me warily. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his.

"Where am I?" He demanded in an unnecessarily harsh voice.

"The apothecary shop." I replied.

He tried to get up but let out a howl of pain instead.

"Don't do that!" I snapped. He glared at me.

"Thanks for the warning." He snapped back. I was taken aback. I decided right then and there that I preferred this boy when he was unconscious.

"I'm just trying to help you." I point out.

"Well, I didn't ask for your help." He growled at me. I glared daggers at him. He glared back, but the pain won out and he whimpered pathetically. My heart softened, again. He reminded me of a wounded animal. So quick to lash out in pain, unaware that I only had his best interest at heart.

I sank down onto my stool and rested my hand on his.

"My name is Maysilee Donner." I told him, looking into his stormy eyes. He jerked his head in acknowledgment. "And if you're going to be such a baby, I'm going to leave you here to suffer alone."

I stared him down, glaring with an intensity to match his. All of the sudden he let out a hearty guffaw that made him wince.

"It's rude to stare." He informed me. "I thought Town girls were supposed to be all sorts of proper."

"I guess I'm full of surprises." I replied. I turned away, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. I made him a cup of tea with sleeping syrup.

I returned to my seat, and pressed the cup to his lips, "Drink this."

"You're bedside manner could use some work, you know?" He said as he took a sip and made a face.

"So I've been told."

"Down right unsympathetic." He continued as I forced himself to take another sip.

"Just drink your tea." I snapped, which made him smile.

"Whatever you say, Sweetheart."

I glowered at the condescension he conveyed with the term of endearment. As he finished his tea, I set the cup beside the sink. His eyelids had already begun to droop and he half smiled at me as he took my hand. I had held his hand several times, but it was strange for him to take mine. I had just been trying to comfort someone in pain. But this seemed different. An unspoken plea, asking what his pride wouldn't allow him to convey in words. He was asking me to stay with him while he slept. I looked into his cloudy eyes. That was when I realized that Haymitch Abernathy was a dangerous man. He smiled at me as he fell asleep and that's when I knew that I was in grave danger of the one thing I never imagined would be a problem, or falling for a boy from the Seam.

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	3. Chapter 3

"Maysi." A soft whisper woke me. I sat up and looked at Carlene with bleary eyes. She brushed my hair out of my face as I struggled to focus on her, to remember where I was. Why I was there.

A warm pressure wrapped around one of my hands helped the memories return. I glanced over at the sleeping boy and then back at Carlene. She was smiling, knowingly. This made me uncomfortable so I quickly slide my hand free.

"So…" She trailed off giving me a pointed look. I glared at her. I was Maysilee Donner. I had the top marks in my class. I knew better than to develop a crush on a Seam boy. It would be foolish, and it would only lead to a life of misery. I knew that, and so did Carlene. But something about the way she looked at Flynn made me think that reality had slipped her mind.

"So," I replied just as pointedly. Her eyes dropped in shame. "How was dinner?"

"Lovely." She replied listlessly. I noticed that the collar of her dress was twisted and I reached out and straightened it. I looked into her lovely blue eyes seriously.

"Car, Brantley can offer you security." I told her. She nodded, her beautiful face twisted with pain. I pulled her into my arms and hugged her tightly. I stroked her soft curls as she sobbed into my shoulder.

"I love him, Maysi." She whimpered as her warm tears soaked through the shoulder of my blouse. I thought about the Seam boy, the one who brought Haymitch here for care. He was tall, with the striking features of the Seam. There was no denying that he was handsome, but years of hardship were already etched on his face. He would be made old before his time. The only thing he could offer her was to drag her into the same life of misery he was destined to. I glanced at the boy on the table, reminding myself, that I was not exempt from my own advice.

"Do you really think you could be happy with a Seam life?" I asked her, my tone and expression serious and confused. I knew I didn't want that life. I wasn't made of hard enough stuff to survive that kind of life. I was weak. I cared more about comfort than love.

"I don't know." Carlene whispered. "But I know I would be miserable with anyone else."

This floored me. I had never seen my friend so torn and I didn't like it. She was always so sure and steady, only to be so completely altered by love. Love? How could an emotion so vague and indefinable cause her so much trouble? I had never been in love. Boys had expressed interest in me, but I was not interested in letting myself become so vulnerable. Of course, I figured I would marry someday, but it would not be for love. Convenience. Security. Those were the things that created happiness, not love.

I studied Carlene's face uncomprehendingly. I could not condemn her for wanting to chase after an idea as elusive as love and happiness. But dreams do not come true in District twelve, and when they do, they often turn into nightmares. I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her forehead tenderly.

"Just don't do anything rash." I whispered to her. I hugged her tightly and over her shoulder I could see the sleeping boy. His face so peaceful in sleep, not glaring or making snarky comments. I felt warmth in my hand where he had held it while we had both slept. My chest constricted painfully.

"Don't make a mistake you can't come back from." I added more for my own benefit than hers.

I left after that. Went home and crawled into bed without bathing. I didn't go back to the Apothecary shop the next day, or the day after. I didn't want to chance seeing the Seam boy again. I was sure he would go home as soon as he could move, but I still didn't want to take the chance. So I just steered clear of danger. Avoidance was key; Haymitch Abernathy would not be a danger to me if I never saw him again.

That plan proved to be easier said than done.

School resumed the following week, and I walked into my new classroom with Melody and Carlene. We slipped into three seats at the very front as we always had since we were five years old. The room was stuffy and hot and sweat trailed down my neck. It was uncomfortable, but bearable until something grabbed my attention. Something was off. I had a strange twisting feeling in my stomach. I felt as though someone was staring straight at me. No, into me.

Uncomfortable, I looked around the room and blue eyes found gray. I started as I recognized the intensity of those eyes. My focus expanded and I took in the face of none other than Haymitch. He smirked at me and I hurriedly turned away and stared at my desk unblinkingly until lunch. When the bell rang, I fled from the classroom. As I stepped out of the school building, I felt the blazing sun scorch my face. A breeze caught me, wiping away some of the awful heat. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. I tried to clear my mind. But Haymitch was in my class. I had never noticed before, but we had shared the same classroom for ten years. How had I not noticed before?

Because I wasn't looking.

I heard the door open behind me and assumed it was either Melody or Carlene coming to check on me. Likely both. I was the most rational of the three of us, to the point of being cold. I was not the type to flee madly for no apparent reason. But a gravelly voice made my throat close off and oxygen suddenly became scarce.

"You alright, sweetheart?"

I turned around slowly and our eyes met. He was not smiling then. He looked genuinely concerned.

"It's rude to stare." I snapped. This made him chuckle.

"Good, I was hoping I followed the right one." Haymitch replied. It took me a second to realize what he was talking about, and then it struck me. Melody, my twin.

"Why are you following me at all?" I demanded but regretted asking the question almost immediately. I should have just politely excused myself and gone back inside.

"You weren't there when I woke up."

"So?" Again I mentally slapped myself for continuing the conversation.

"I thought you would be."

I thought of the moment before he slipped into the syrup induced sleep. The way he had clutched my hand and the unspoken plea. Guilt tugged at me. He woke alone in an unfamiliar place and I wasn't there. And I never came back.

"How's your back?" I asked, trying to ease my conscience with good etiquette.

"Healing." He said. His eyes did not stray from mine. I wanted to look away. I couldn't handle his intensity. I felt myself slipping once again, like that first day.

"Are you still full of surprises?" He asked.

I told myself to say no. I told myself to go back inside.

I didn't listen.

Somehow, my hand was once again wrapped in his and we were running away from the school. Through the Seam and we didn't stop until we ducked behind a honeysuckle bush in the Meadow. We stared into each other's eyes, breathing heavily.

"We're cutting class." I whispered in horror.

"Yeah."

"We'll get in trouble." I said. The blood drained from my face. I had never been in trouble before in my life.

"Only if we get caught." Haymitch replied with a smirk.

"We should go back."

"Definitely not." Haymitch said. I stared at him uncomprehendingly. His blatant disregard for rules was so different, so Seam. A thrill ran through me, and even though I knew I should pull my hand from his and run back to school as quickly as possible, I couldn't dredge up the desire to do what I should. For the first time ever, I wanted to be reckless.

"Trust me?" He asked.

I should have said no. I should have been rational. My parents would be mortified if they knew. Melody would cry if she knew the blush that brightened my cheeks was put there by a Seam boy. Carlene… Carlene would tell me to follow my heart. The mere idea struck me and made my pulse quicken. I looked into Haymitch's eyes and realized something quite startling. I was out of excuses.

So I nodded.

A smile lit his face and again we were running. We ran for the fence. I gave a startled yelp when after glancing around to be sure we weren't watched, he dragged me under. He pulled me into the tree line and we kept running until District 12 disappeared.

Our pace slowed to a casual walk. Still Haymitch did not release my hand, and I did not pull away.

"Where are you taking me?" I finally asked after about twenty minutes of silence.

"Somewhere beautiful." Haymitch replied.

He stopped at an old stump and stuck his free hand beneath it, pulling out a wicked looking knife. I gasped. He gave me an odd look as he slipped it into his belt.

"For protection." He explained.

I blushed again realizing how foolish I must seem to him. How completely Town. We slipped back into silence as we climbed a hill. When we reached the top, I gasped despite myself. It really was beautiful, not dirty and dreary like the district. Before us was a lake of clear still water rimmed with reeds and wildflowers. I looked at Haymitch and smiled in wonderment.

"I've never seen anything like this." I whispered. I started towards the water and this time I led him. He followed without comment until we reached the water's edge.

"Do you know how to swim?" He asked. I shook my head. I had never had the opportunity, surely he knew that. "Would you like to learn?"

I look at him and then back to the tempting water. But a more pressing issue tugged at me.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked. He looked down at the reeds around his feet.

"I thought you would like it here." He replied vaguely, but I kept staring at him until he finally met my eyes. "I knew who you were that night, before you told me."

"Well, we are in the same year." I replied casually, suddenly embarrassed that I had not known him before that night, or even that he was in my class before today.

"No, it's more than that." He insisted. "I have known your name for as long as I can remember. I knew it was you who ran outside today. I always know when it's you."

He was talking about the fact that I was a twin again. Even people who had known Melody and me our whole lives struggled to tell us apart.

"Why?" I asked softly.

"Because… You're different." He explained. Our eyes met once again and I felt a blush creep back into my cheeks.

"From Melody?" I asked, unable to look away from his dangerous eyes.

"From everyone." He replied. He pulled his hand away from mine for the first time since we fled the school. My hand felt suddenly cold and empty even though the day was uncomfortably hot.

He paced in front of me, ruffling his dark hair, before stopping and looking me straight in the eye, "I thought I was dreaming when I woke up in the apothecary shop and you were there taking care of me."

"Why would you think it was a dream?"

"Because the only time I get to talk to you is when I'm dreaming." He whispered. An unfamiliar spark caught flame in my chest. He dreamed about me, this boy from the Seam who I hadn't even known existed until he burst into my life, an unexpected but a welcome relief from propriety. Yes, the boy was dangerous, and his hold over me grew by the second. His every word… gesture… look…

Without knowing what I was doing, or even why, I stepped forward and caught his lips with mine. His lips were hot and salty, and traced with a hint of smoke. The flavor made me smile as I pulled away and looked up at him shyly, suddenly afraid that I had been too forward.

A dazed expression softened his usually hard features and slowly he smiled back at me. He tucked a long blonde lock behind my ear as he studied my face. I don't know what I was thinking. He was a Seam boy. This sort of thing didn't end well. Ever. But I realized as he leaned in to claim another kiss that security would never be enough for me after that day.

One rash act and I was a goner. I would never be able to settle for all the things I was supposed to want. As I closed my eyes and let Haymitch wrap his arms around me and kiss me in a way that told me he never wanted to kiss anyone else, I found Carlene's words tumbling around in my jumbled mind.

" _I know I would be miserable with anyone else."_

So much for Security.

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	4. Chapter 4

The sun was sinking low in the sky when Haymitch and I crawled back under the fence. We snuck quietly through the Seam, keeping in the shadows until we reached the edge of town. From our shadowy alley, I could make out the faint light burning in the window of my parents' candy shop. I had no doubt that they had closed up the shop and were readying dinner. At least that was the normal routine. But today was not normal, at least not for me.

I disappeared without explanation. I cut school for the second half of the day and disappeared into the forest with a boy from the Seam. Even a fraction of my day would be enough to make my mother faint with shame. If I told her that I had kissed that Seam boy. If I told her I let him kiss me. That I wanted him to kiss me every day for the rest of my life… A story like that would kill my mother.

I couldn't bring myself to care as I clutched Haymitch's hand in my own. I had to say goodbye to him. I had to go back to real life and for both our sakes pretend not to notice him when people were looking. But all I really wanted to do was disappear back into the woods with him. Forget the fact that I was a merchant's daughter and he was a Seam boy. I didn't want to think about all the reasons why we couldn't be together. I wanted to pretend we could have a future.

I looked away from the town square and back at the Seam gray eyes that were quickly becoming more familiar to me than my own. I leaned forward, capturing his lips for another kiss.

"Tomorrow?" I whispered as I reluctantly stepped away from him, pulling my hand free of his.

"I'll teach you to swim." He promised as he stepped back into the shadows vanishing from my view. I smiled against my will. "Good night, Sweetheart."

I hurried across the square and up the front steps into our shop. The bell jangled as I slipped inside. I prepared myself for the onslaught of accusations and tears. But they didn't come.

Instead, to my surprise, my sister, mother, and father sit around the table eating dinner. My mother looks up from her stew and smiles at me.

"Maysilee!" She started. "Did you have a nice time with Carlene?"

I gaped in surprise, but as my eyes found Melody's she gave subtle headshake, so I went along with it.

"Oh yes, I'm sorry I'm so late." I managed to spit out.

"Did you eat dinner?" My mother asked, gesturing to the pot on the stove. My stomach growled loudly.

"Not yet." I ladled a generous serving of stew into my bowl and slid into my place at the table. My parents quickly disregarded my presence and resumed their conversation. Melody stayed strangely quiet through the meal. As we finished eating and cleared away our dishes, Melody remained silent. It wasn't until we were upstairs in our shared bedroom that she finally spoke.

"I lied for you." She said flatly. Her blue eyes that matched my own flashed angrily. She was usually so passive that the open hostility disarmed me.

"Thank you." I said.

"Don't thank me." She snapped angrily. Her tone made me jump. "I can't believe you Maysi! You ran off with a Seam boy. No one saw you or heard for you for hours. And you skipped school. With a Seam Boy! What were you thinking?"

"I – I wasn't." I replied honestly, because for the first time in my life I hadn't planned my life out completely.

"Obviously!" She continued, her pitch slowly rising. "Who is he?"

"No one." I replied too quickly. Her glare deepened. I took a breath before trying again. "No one, Mellie, he's just a Seam boy."

"Then why did you run off together." She pressed.

"He just wanted to talk to me about something." I evaded. I was avoiding and she knew it.

"What on earth did a Seam boy have to talk to you about?"

"He just wanted to thank me. He got hurt and Carlene and I helped him out." I replied honestly. "You can as Car, she'll tell you."

"So it was a one-time thing?" She asked.

"Of course." I replied, my voice caught in my throat making my fib obvious. Melody's eyes flashed in fury.

"Then promise me something, Maysi." She asked, stroking my blond hair tenderly, but her eyes were still hard.

"Anything."

"Promise me you will never talk to that boy again." Melody insisted. My throat tightened and my face felt hot, but I quickly cleared my face of all emotion.

"I promise." I replied casually. Melody's expression cleared and she smiled happily. She turned away from me and began getting ready for bed. I could not move. I had lied, straight out lied to my sister. And I had not even hesitated. There was no chance that I would give up Haymitch, not now that I found that I desperately needed him. For the first time in my life I was actually living and I could not go back.

Then next morning my stomach still churned with guilt but I ignored it. Got ready in a hurry and told Mellie that I was going to Carlene's and I would meet her at school. She just nodded, busy tying a purple ribbon in her hair. I kissed the top of her head and ran off. I didn't stop running until I barged through Carlene's bedroom door. She yelped in surprise, accidently letting go of her half done braid. Looking at the unraveling hair, she sighed in exasperation.

"What are you doing here May?" She asked as she started her braid again.

"I kissed him." The words blurted out without my permission.

"Uh huh." She nodded, not really listening. Then her fingers froze and she turned to face me, releasing her hair again. "Kissed who?"

"Haymitch." The name popped out and I slapped my hands over my mouth trying to stop myself from revealing any more damaging information. Carlene's lips formed a silent "O".

"So that's where you ran off to?" She asked calmly. I nodded.

"Into the woods?" she asked.

I nodded again.

Her expression became grave. "Does anyone know?"

"Mellie saw us leaving the school. But she doesn't know we crossed the fence, or that we kissed. She made me promise I'd never talk to him again." I explained so quickly that I was surprised that Carlene nodded understandingly.

"So you lied." She supplied smoothly. All I could do was nod. Carlene reached out for my hand and squeezed it tenderly. "It's okay, May."

"How can you say that?" I demanded, my voice squeaking in desperation.

"Because I love Flynn Everdeen and as soon as I turn eighteen, I'm going to marry him." She said decidedly, as though her mind had been made up for a long time, "You won't tell anyone, right?"

My jaw nearly hit the floor, but I composed myself enough to say, "Of course not."

"Sometimes you need to forget about everyone else and take a chance." Carlene whispered. "You can't give up a chance at real happiness just because everyone else thinks you're foolish."

"You know Car, you're a lot smarter than I give you credit for." I admitted. Carlene gasped and smacked my shoulder and we both started laughing. I reached over for her hair and nimbly whisked it into a braid.

"Perfect." She said with a smile. Our eyes met in the reflection of the mirror. "I'll cover for you if you cover for me."

"Can you cover for me today?" I asked without hesitation. Her smile widened.

"Again?" She asked and a blush crept into my cheeks. I smiled despite myself as I allowed myself to imagine that maybe we could both have happiness after all.

That afternoon, Haymitch started teaching me to swim. We spent every afternoon for weeks that way. Back in the district my family thought I was with Carlene and her family thought she was with me.

Haymitch and I lay on the banks one afternoon, allowing the sun to dry us. My head rested in his lap, my eyes closed as I let my other senses run ramped. My hair spread out across the grass. Haymitch plucked water lilies from the bank and threaded them into my hair. It was perfect. The scorching sun made bearable by the water still clinging to our bodies.

"Why can't every day be like this?" I whispered. The Mockingjay's chirped around us in a soothing lullaby. Haymitch's hand hesitated, still tangled in my hair.

"Who says it can't be?" He asked.

I opened my eyes to look at his face, but the afternoon sun silhouetted him so that I could not see his features. I could not read his meaning. I sat up and looked into his eyes. They were so serious, burning with a newly forming idea.

"Because, at the end of the day we have to go back." I whispered. His warm hands cupped my face. "And then I have to say goodbye to you."

Haymitch leaned forward so that our foreheads rested against each other. "What if we never went back?" He asked. I couldn't speak, the idea thrilled through my veins. He continued. "What if we ran away together?"

I opened my mouth, but before I could form words, Haymitch captured my lips and my thoughts became all muddled. His lips made me feel warm in a way the sun could not.

"What about your family?" I asked.

"They'd come with us." He replied with a shrug. I bit my lip, actually considering the idea. We could have done it, survived off the land. We could have made a world all our own. No Town. No Seam. No District 12.

No family.

"I would never see my family again." I said slowly, the weight heavy in my words. "They would never agree to go with us."

Haymitch tangled his fingers through my hair, studying its golden color rather than looking into my eyes.

I could barely get the words out, "I don't think I could do that."

Haymitch nodded, but I could see the disappointment in his face. He really wanted me to agree. He wanted us to run away and never look back. But if he left District Twelve, there would be no reason to look back. He had no ties to the place, no happy memories. If I left, I would lose my entire world. Everything I had ever cared about, everything but Haymitch. But was that enough?

"Will you promise to think about it?" He asked.

I could do that, I could think about it. But would I ever be able to actually go. I didn't know.

"I don't think I could possibly not think about it." I admitted and that coaxed a half-smile free of his lips, so I stole it with a kiss. "We should get back."

"Yeah, someone is bound to be missing you." Haymitch agreed sullenly.

"I promise that every second I'm not with you, I'm wishing I was." I told him as he tugged the lilies from my hair.

"Every time I see you, it hurts." Haymitch said. My face fell, but he didn't offer a smile to mend his words. "Because I know someday I'm going to have to say goodbye to you forever."

"What do you mean?" I demanded. "I'm not going anywhere."

"That's the problem Maysilee," he explained, "because if you don't leave District 12, eventually you're going to leave me."

"No!" I exclaimed loudly, but then remembered myself. "No Haymitch, never."

"We both know that it's true Maysi. If we stay here, I'll lose you. Some Town boy will offer you things I can't." Haymitch said as he pulled me up to my feet. Anger flushed in my cheeks.

"And you think I could give you up? Just like that?" I asked angrily. Haymitch opened his mouth to speak, but I didn't want to hear it so I stormed away back toward the fence.

"Maysilee." He called after me in frustration. Then again in desperation. The panic in his voice and his firm hand around my wrist made me stop. That's when I saw them. Between us and the path back to the fence. A pack of wild dogs. Haymitch pulled me slowly into his chest and whispered in my ear. "Can you climb?" I nodded, and I felt his sigh of relief against my back. "You see that tree? The willow about ten yards from here. We're going to make a run for it."

My breath caught in my lungs, but I knew better than to second guess him. He knew the dangers of these woods far better than I did. He told me we would run on the count of three. And when three passed his lips, we bolted for the tree. He reached the tree first and was already up a branch when I started to climb. It was okay. We were going to be okay.

Then I felt the teeth sink into my leg.

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	5. Chapter 5

The pain was blinding as the dogs ripped into my leg, tearing at my skin. I clung to the branch, but could not pull my leg free.

"Hold on." Haymitch hollered down to me as he scrambled down the tree.

His knife was gripped between his teeth, he kicked at the dog latched on my leg. It yelped as his foot made contact with its muzzle. It released its grip and Haymitch hiked me up onto the branch.

Another dog launched itself at us and Haymitch drove the knife into its chest. It fell back to the ground and whimpered as it died.

"We have to get higher!" He yelled to me over the snarling dogs.

"I don't know if I can." I said. My leg was in agony. Blood flowed freely from the ragged bite.

"I won't leave you Maysi." He snapped. "Not ever."

He half dragged me up three more branches until we were about fifteen feet up and well out of reach of the wild dogs who circled below. Snarling and snapping. Tears stung my eyes, my leg hurt so bad. But I didn't want Haymitch to think I was weak. I bit my lip and tried to ignore the throbbing that was making my head spin.

"Still think we could survive in the wilderness?" I asked snottily. Haymitch glared at me, but bit back a retort. He must have seen the pain in my face. He pulled off his shirt and tore it into strips.

"I have no doubt Maysi," he said gently as he used his shredded shirt to staunch the bleeding and bandage my wound, "because I will always fight for you."

I smiled despite the pain and leaned forward. I pressed a kiss to his furrowed brow. He looked into my eyes, his own gray ones softening. Gently, he caressed my cheek and leaned forward. My lips were captured by his in a fit of desperation. I could taste his fear. Not of the dogs below or the coming night. Those things didn't trouble him. He only feared losing me.

"Do you think they'll stay long?" I whispered against his warm, soft lips.

"No, they'll lose interest." He assured me. "Don't worry, I'll keep you safe."

"I know." I leaned into him and he wrapped his arms around me protectively. I placed my cheek against his chest and he rested his chin on top of my head.

"You're the bravest girl I've ever known." He told me. I smiled. His praise was the best medicine.

We sat in silence, clutching each other as we waited for what seemed like hours until the pack finally wandered off. Haymitch helped me down the tree without too much trouble. When I placed weight on my injured leg, I had to stuff my fist in my mouth to stifle a cry of pain. Throbbing waves radiated from the torn flesh. I tried a few more steps, but the pain was too much. Despite my argument against it, Haymitch carried me back to the fence. After the trek, he was shaking from exertion and exhaustion. I knew there was no way he could carry me back to the town square and I doubted if I could make it back to my house from there on my own anyway.

"Haymitch…" I started, but he cut me off.

"I can do it." He insisted. He was far too stubborn for his own good.

"I can't." I pointed out. "And if you carried me to the apothecary shop, someone would be bound to see us."

Haymitch paused, studying my tear stained face.

"Then I'll take you home," he decided, "my home."

We reached the small house, although it barely warranted the name, in a couple of minutes. The glorified hovel bordered the edge of the Seam and the Meadow. When Haymitch carried me in, a middle-aged woman stood over the stove in the corner, cooking. The one roomed home was sweltering. Two mattresses were tucked against the wall furthest from the door. A young boy dozed on one of the mattresses.

The woman looked over, smiling when she heard the door, but her face fell when she saw me.

"What happened?" She asked as Haymitch sat me down on a wooden chair be the table in the middle of the room.

"We were attacked by dogs." He explained.

"Why did you bring her here?" Her tone was soft, but there was something biting in her words. They made me flush in shame as though I was guilty of some atrocity.

"I can't go home. My family thinks I'm with the apothecary's daughter." I admitted. The woman glared at me and I realized that she wasn't angry at her son, rather at my very presence.

"Mitch." The woman said. "Go fetch Carlene. She can tend to the girl's leg and help her home."

"Yes Ma'am." Haymitch replied. He snagged one last smile from me before he hurried out the door. The woman turned back to the stove as he left.

"Are you hungry?" Haymitch's mother asked.

"No. Thank you." I said. The silence stretched on. And on. And on. Finally I couldn't stand it any longer so I spoke. "I'm really sorry for the inconvenience Mrs. Abernathy."

"Oh, dear, it's much more than an inconvenience." She replied coldly. Her face was not unkind, but it was rather harsh, worn hard by years of hardships.

"Have I done something to offend you?" I asked, bothered by her obvious hostility.

"What do you think this relationship you are playing at with my son will bring, girl? Happiness?" She snapped. I drew back from her stinging words. "I hope, for your sake, that you are not that foolish."

"I'm not trying to cause trouble Mrs. Abernathy." I tried to argue.

"I have nothing against you personally, dear. I'm sure you are a delightful girl." She said in a much kinder tone. "But there is a reason why the Town and Seam don't mix. You may not be looking for trouble, but if you insist on carrying on with this charade, I can guarantee that trouble will find you."

The words hurt, because I knew they were true. They weren't meant as a personal attack on me, rather a mother doing everything in her power to protect her son. In her eyes, I was not only a threat to his happiness, but to his safety and his well-being, to his future. Just as I couldn't hope for a future with a Seam boy, his future with a Town girl would surely be laced with misery. The revelation caused a wave of tears. I blinked rapidly to hold them back.

"I care about your son." I started but my voice cracked.

"Then I'm sure you'll make the right decision and end things now before either of you become more attached." Mrs. Abernathy said as she smiled at me sadly. "You will only hurt him more in the long run, if you wait."

I stared at her, my eyes still stinging with the tears that I could barely keep at bay. My face was hot with anger. I wanted to leave. To storm off dramatically and forget her words. But I couldn't even walk away. We sat in stony silence, her warning digging deeper and deeper into me until the door opened.

Carlene followed Haymitch in, clutching a messenger back to her chest. She was at my side instantly, pulling medicines and bandages from the small bag. She unwrapped the makeshift bandage as gently as possible, but still I whimpered in pain.

Haymitch was beside me, immediately. His hand reached out to hold mine in comfort, but I didn't take it. Two pairs of Gray eyes were on me. One was hurt and the other pleased.

I ignored the pain best I could as Carlene washed out the wound and stitched up what she could of the torn flesh. She slipped me some leaves to numb the pain. With the help of my friend I struggled to my feet. I leaned heavily on her as I staggered from the house. I did not speak to Mrs. Abernathy. I couldn't even look at Haymitch. I heard him follow us out. Felt his warm, solid grip wrap around my arm.

"Maysilee, wait." He said. Carlene and I stopped. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I replied, avoiding his disarming gaze.

"Maysi." He started but trailed off, trying something else. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea." I said. I tried to walk again, but his hand held me where I was.

"The day after then?" He pressed.

"No Haymitch." I answered, finally gathering the courage to look into his eyes. I struggled to hide the waves of pain that threatened to drag me under. "I think it would be better if we stopped fooling ourselves."

I felt Carlene's arm stiffen around me, my words striking a nerve even with her, but she did not know the things Mrs. Abernathy had said to me. She did not understand. And I didn't have the strength to explain it to her. I could only hope to make Haymitch understand, even if only barely.

"Fooling ourselves?" He demanded. "How are we fooling ourselves?"

"This." I started. "Us. Do you really think it could end well?" I clung to Carlene for support that I know she couldn't give me.

Haymitch grabbed my face and kissed me deeply, making my breath catch in my chest.

"I don't care about the end." He insisted. "I care about right now. And right now I love you Maysilee. I always have."

My face twists painfully. I wanted to give in. I wanted to tell him I was falling so in love with him I could barely think straight. But his mother's words burned in my ears.

" _You will only hurt him more in the long run, if you wait."_

"I'm sorry." I whispered and I pushed him away. "But this can never be. It's over Haymitch."

Haymitch's face turned cold and he released my arm, backing away from me.

"I thought you were different." He snarled in a low whisper. "Turns out your exactly the same. Just as shallow and selfish as all the other Town girls." He pushed past me, walking back to his house. "Don't ever speak to me again, Maysilee Donner."

I leaned heavily on Carlene and hobbled forward as the tears began to flow freely. She watched me in silence for a long while. She didn't know what to say, and there was nothing I could say to explain myself. As we reached the square she asked me if I was okay, I insisted that it was the pain from my leg. She didn't press, but I knew she didn't believe a word I said.

I hobbled up the stairs to my bed after Carlene fed my parents a story about a bad fall on a pickax by the slagheap. They seemed to buy it. They had no reason to doubt Carlene. I slipped between my sheets and clutched my pillow to my chest. I burrowed my face in it as I sobbed uncontrollably. I tried to convince myself that I was crying because of the pain. And I was. It just wasn't because of the pain coming from my leg.

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	6. Chapter 6

Mr. Graydon ordered me to stay in bed for the next few days to give my leg time to heal. I didn't object, I probably wouldn't have gotten out of bed those days anyway. I cried a lot, but only when I was alone. When my mother came in with my meals, I would smile and thank her and apologize for being such a nuisance. She would wave off my apologies and assure me that it was always her pleasure to take care of me. She would brush my hair and kiss my forehead. She was a good mother. I was so grateful for her, and while I couldn't tell her the truth about the pain that really ailed me, I took what comfort I could from her.

I couldn't tell her that when she left me alone, tears poured down my cheeks. I really couldn't tell her why. It's wouldn't do any good if she knew. What could she say that would make the aching in my heart hurt less? She couldn't tell me that I'd been wrong and that I should try to get Haymitch back, and those were the only words that could help. Every day that I sat in my bed, waiting for my leg to heal, I tried to piece myself back together.

I tried to figure out how I could go back to school and pretend not to feel his presence. How I could not look around hoping that my eyes would meet the steel gray of his. How I could face the hatred he no doubt bore for me now. All I wanted was to find him and tell him yes, I would run away with him and we would never look back on District 12, but that would never happen now.

He wasn't mine to have. Even if I could have left behind my entire life, his mother would never accept me. I had thought that it was Haymitch who could not fit into my world. I was wrong. I was the one who would never belong in his. I was Maysilee Donner, shopkeeper's daughter. Destined for a life without love or genuine happiness. The most I could hope for, the most I could ask for was security.

I always knew that I couldn't have a fairytale and so I had avoided thinking about it. I slipped up with Haymitch, I let myself think about wonderful things that just couldn't be. I couldn't be with Haymitch. His mother had made that perfectly clear. Pretending differently wouldn't do either of us any good. If I cared about him, if I really cared, I would never look into a crowd trying to find those disarmingly gray eyes again. I would let him go. And if I couldn't do that, I would let him let me go.

By the next week, Mr. Graydon and Carlene agreed that my leg was healed enough for me to get around on it. I had a limp from the injury and it throbbed mercilessly with each step, but I could bare it. I hobbled into class arm in arm with Mellie. She had been a complete dear while I was stuck home on bed rest. She brought me my homework and sat with me for hours walking me through the things I did not understand. If she suspected that I had lied about the origin of my injury, she didn't allude to it.

She was just the same wonderful sister she had always been. Now she was my support as I clung to her. My ears burned as I stared at the floor. I didn't want to see him. He couldn't know that he was never far from my thoughts. He couldn't know how much I missed him. How much I wanted to take back my words. Because my resolve was so weak, one look from him would make me crumble. I couldn't crumble, for his sake.

I scribbled notes, but didn't really hear anything the teacher said. How could I focus on mine productivity when he was so close to me? I could feel his presence. I could see his eyes darkened with anger. He was so close, but for how utterly out of my reach he was, he might as well have been in a different District. When the final bell rang out, I shuffled along after Mellie and Carlene. I followed them back to the town square, and then branched off to follow Carlene into the apothecary shop. She applied a fresh bandage my leg as I sat slumped on the stool. I winced as she washed away the old paste to reapply fresh medicine. She knew it was a dog bite and had been especially careful to make sure I didn't end up with an infection. The silence between us felt heavy as she tended to the wound.

"Why did you do it Maysi?" Carlene asked, finally breaking the silence. She had not asked me about that night. I had figured she was respecting my privacy and butting out. No such luck. Apparently she was just waiting for the opportune moment to ambush me.

"We were being foolish." I replied with a shrug. She gave me a hard look and I stared at a bottle of salve intently.

"You were the happiest I've ever seen you." She pressed. My jaw locked in the anger and pain that had been bubbling beneath the surface for days, with too much quiet time to grow.

"And how happy do you think I'd be in twenty years, when a mine accident, or sickness stole him from me? I'd be alone in the Seam with no support and more mouths then I could possibly hope to feed. How happy do you think I'd be, widowed and starving to death? How happy do you really think I could be?" I yelled at her. Her eyes watered as my tone escalated. I knew my words cut her on a personal level. She was well aware of what any future with Flynn would bring, but she was brave enough to risk it. I wasn't that brave. I couldn't let myself have Haymitch, because I was too afraid of what having him would mean. "I was being foolish."

"So what?" Carlene snapped back. Her tone startled me; her expression was fierce and passionate. Unlike her usual calm demeanor. "So you're going to spend your life with a man you know you could never love? Bare his children and share his bed, but never, not for one second let him into your heart? That's your plan? That would be less foolish? Because to me, that sounds like the cowards way out."

I paled, her words cut like knives. She saw the things I had thought were hidden. She saw me as I really was, a coward. I was so afraid of what could go wrong that I wouldn't even take the risk. I was willing to give up any chance at happiness because of the words Haymitch's mother said to me, because she told me that I shouldn't be with her son. I really was a coward. I was willing to give up the only person who ever made me feel anything for security. Who does that? Oh yeah, Maysilee Donner.

"I think I love him, Car." I whispered. My voice cracked and the tears poured down my cheeks. Her arms were around me before the first tear could drip from my chin. She kissed my forehead and clutched me to her chest, trying to squeeze out the pain. I gasped shaking breaths in her arms and she just held me in her arms. "And he'll never forgive me."

"Why did you do it?" She whispered softly. I sniffled softly, looking up at her with watery eyes.

"I thought it would be better for both of us." I whispered, and then I told her everything. The argument in the woods, Haymitch's fear that if we stayed in District 12 eventually it would tear us apart. How mere hours later, his words proved true when I crumpled under his mother's disapproval and pushed him away. "What am I supposed to do? He doesn't want to see me. If I try talking to him I doubt he'll listen."

Carlene's brow furrowed in thought as she absorbed the story. "Let me see what I can do." She said after a long silence. "Haymitch and Flynn are close. If I asked him to, Flynn would talk to him. I think together, we could at least give you the chance to explain yourself."

I nodded, my stomach flipped at the thought. How could I explain myself in a way that he would be able to forgive my cowardice? How could I take back those stinging words from that night? I had plenty of time to sort out my thoughts because even with Flynn's help it took most of a month to convince Haymitch to talk to me.

Summer had cooled into fall when I walked into the clearing of the lake. The old remains of a house stood in the shadows of the trees. I hadn't noticed it the last time I was here, but Haymitch sat in the doorway watching me. Our eyes met and I hesitated. All of my courage faded and my thoughts became a jumbled pile as I crossed the clearing towards the old shack.

"Hey." I said lamely. He glared up at me in a way that made my insides shrink and twist painfully.

"Flynn said you wanted to talk." He said coldly. All I could do was nod. "So talk."

I ran my hand nervously through my loose curls. "I'm sorry." I started. I had a whole speech planned but it seemed so stupid now as I played it through my head.

"That it?" He asked brusquely. I shook my head. He looked away from me, staring intently at the shimmering surface of the pond in the afternoon sun. "What then?"

"Remember when you told me I was the bravest girl you'd even known?" I asked. He shrugged noncommittally. I took it as a yes. "You were wrong. I'm not brave. I'm a coward."

Haymitch dug the heel of his boot into the dirt and slid it back and forth, slowly making a trench. He wasn't going to make this easy on me. Even if I got all the words out, and said them just the way I want him to hear them, he still probably wouldn't forgive me. Haymitch wasn't the type to dole out forgiveness on a whim. I was more than willing to earn back his trust, but I doubted he'd even give me the chance.

"That night, while you were off getting Carlene, your mother spoke to me." I continued, I stared down at his boot as it shimmied back and forth. "She made it clear that she didn't want us to see each other anymore."

His boot froze. I did have the nerve to look into his eyes, which were no doubt burning with rage that I had the gall to accuse his mother of such a thing. It sure wasn't the best way to smooth things over, but the only thing I could do was be honest and hope for the best.

My voice was barely above a whisper for my next words. "She said that our being together would only bring trouble for you. That the Seam and Town didn't mix for a reason. She said if I really cared about you, I'd let you go. So I let you go."

"Why now." He demanded. "If this is true, why are you telling me now?"

"Because…" I trailed off. He was standing now, but still I started at his boot. "I'd rather have trouble than the emptiness of not having you in my life. I'm a coward, but I'm selfish to. And selfishly, I can't bare another day without you in my life. I can't stand the idea of a life that you're not a part of."

The boot took a step towards me and I looked up hopefully. My eyes met his Seam eyes, no, his eyes. He shared the color with most of the Seam, but the intensity belonged to him alone. I couldn't read his expression, but it didn't seem to burn with the same rage it had earlier. "What are you saying Maysilee?"

"That I love you." I replied.

A smile cracked through his blank expression and he grabbed my face, kissing me hard. I was breathless when he finally released my lips. His calloused hands were tangled in my hair as his kisses roamed down my throat.

"Never again." He whispered against my skin.

"What?" I asked in confusion, I felt his lips smile against my throat.

"Never say goodbye to me again." He insisted.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. "I promise."

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	7. Chapter 7

Months passed of secret meetings and stolen kisses. We whispered promises of the future at midnight rendezvous. We made plans to one day run away together, to leave the District and never come back. But this was always just a hypothetical someday, until one horrible afternoon in the dead of winter. We were sitting in class when it was announced that there would be a mandatory broadcast that evening. I heard whispers fly around and someone said "Quarter Quell." The broadcast had something to do with the coming Quell. Silence fell over the room because every one of us knew it was true, and we also knew it could mean only one thing: something awful.

I glanced back at Haymitch as Carlene, Mellie, and I walked towards the door after the final bell rang. He winked at me and I knew that we were on the same page. We could not meet this afternoon as planned, not with the broadcast. So we would meet at midnight beneath our willow tree beside the lake.

Carlene came for dinner that night and stayed for the broadcast. As the seal appeared and the anthem played, her hands shook violently in her lap. I reached for them and held them still in my own.

"It's going to be okay." I whispered to her. She nodded, but she looked abnormally pale. When the screen shifted to the image of President Snow standing behind a podium, she inhaled sharply. I couldn't blame her, his face always made my stomach squirm uncomfortably. It was something about his eyes, they unnerved me. I wasn't really listening as he spoke about the Dark Days and the purpose of the Quarter Quells. Then he was offered an ornate little box which he opened delicately and pulled out a yellowing card. He read the conditions of the second Quarter Quell, and my head swam at the horror of it. Twice the number of tributes were condemned to be slaughtered for the Capitol's entertainment.

No one said a word. My parents' faces were emotionless masks. I could only imagine their fear. The chance of one of their daughters being drawn in the reaping had just doubled. Mellie looked as though she herself had just been reaped, her eyes darting around the room, panicked. Carlene appeared calm, but her grip on my hand was painful. I don't know how I looked. I think I probably looked more determined than anything else. My mind was finally made up. I would not become another victim of Capitol cruelty. I would not be subjected to yet another terrifying reaping. I would leave District 12 forever and as soon as possible. I would tell Haymitch tonight and we would be gone in a couple of days. We would never have to fear the Capitol again. We would be out of their reach and no longer subjected to their sadistic games.

I felt invigorated by my decision that night as I slipped out the back door, quiet as a ghost. I raced through the sleeping streets of the Seam until I reached the Meadow and slid carefully under the fence. Weaving through the trees I came to a stop in front of a tree that I had memorized. Haymitch taught me to always come to that tree first. It had a hollow where he left a knife for me. I fished it out before continuing on to the lake. It took me a while to get there in the dark, but I knew the way well, even with the path blotted out by the snow. I pulled my coat tighter around my body to ward off the painful cold. When I reached the clearing, I saw smoke coming from the old house.

I hurried across the clearing and slipped through the doorway. Haymitch knelt in front of the fireplace as he coaxed a fire to life. I sank to the ground and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my cheek on his back. His warmth leeched into me and he squeezed my hand briefly before returning to his task of tending the fire. Once the fire was self-sustaining he turned away from it and pulled me against his chest. We sat there in the dim firelight hugging. Neither of us said anything for a long time.

"Twice the tributes." I finally whispered in horror. I felt his arms stiffen around me and I knew he was just as horrified by the prospect as I was. His lips found mine and we kissed in desperation. We kissed in mourning of all the lives lost to the Hunger Games and the forty-seven who would soon join them.

"Let do it." I say, resting my hands on his face and searching his eyes so he would know that I meant it this time. "Let's run away. Tomorrow, let's just go."

Haymitch rested his forehead against mine and shook his head slowly, "I can't May."

"No, Haymitch, I mean it. Let's go." I insisted, looking into his eyes desperately. I wanted him to know how serious I was, how much I wanted to go, to run and never look back. But my chest tightened painfully when I saw the tears glittering in his eyes. "Haymitch, what's wrong."

"Paxton is sick Maysi." He whispered his voice cracked. Paxton, his little brother. Paxton, Haymitch's whole world wrapped up in one person. Paxton, the one person I thought he might love more than me. I pulled him to my chest and held him tightly, trying to block out the fear. I tried to make it all go away. "Mr. Graydon said he might not make it. All we can do is wait and see."

Wait and see. That meant staying by the sick child's bedside. Coaxing warm broth down his throat. Keeping his warm and safe. That meant keeping him exactly where he was, safe in a warm house. That meant no desperate flight into the woods to escape the enemies who dictated our destiny. That meant we were staying, because I would never go anywhere without Haymitch. I kissed away his tears and held him as he cried for the brother he loved so fiercely, momentarily allowing myself to forget my own fears.

Even with twice the number of tributes, the chances that either of us would be drawn were still slight. We would be okay. We would get through this reaping and the two that followed and then we would be free of the Hunger Games. We would get married. We would struggle. But we would be okay because we had each other. We always would.

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	8. Chapter 8

By May, Paxton's health was returning, and so was the Spring, and with it the Reaping. I tried not to think about the Quell, and the coming reaping, but I tossed and turned from the nightmares nightly. The day before the reaping, Haymitch kissed me behind the school. He assured me that we would be fine. He told me that we could run away, we just needed to wait a little longer for Paxton to be well enough. I closed my eyes and rested my head on his chest, allowing him to push away my fear.

"Maysi?" asked a voice behind me, dread oozed through me as I turned around to look into a set of blue eyes that matched my own. Mellie looked from me to Haymitch who had quickly stepped away from me. She paled with anger. She turned on her heel and stormed away. I ran after her, leaving Haymitch behind. I knew he would understand. I would find him later.

"Mellie wait." I called after her and grabbed her arm. "Mellie listen."

She spun around and slapped me across the face. It stung, like crazy. I stepped back in shock. She glared at me with intense hatred in her eyes, like I had never seen from her before.

"You lied to me." She accused angrily.

"No!" I started. "Well, yes… Please let me explain."

Mellie just gave me a look of disgust and yanked her arm free of my grip. "Explain what, Maysilee? How you lied to me so you could run off into the woods with some boy from the Seam? Were you even going to say goodbye before you took off? Or were you just going to leave me behind?"

"Mellie." I begged. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what could make her forgive my betrayal so finally I settled for the truth. "I love him, Mellie."

She gave me a look of pure loathing and walked away. I watched her go, powerless. Haymitch slipped his arms around my waist and squeezed me tightly.

"I'm so sorry, May." He whispered in my ear. I nodded, but I felt my emotions bubbling to the surface. I just needed to be alone.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay Mitch?" I replied.

"Okay." He said and let me go. "I love you."

I nodded. I trailed slowly back towards my home. I had no doubt that Mellie was already there, telling my parents. I didn't know what I would do when they confronted me, so I just shuffled forward like a lamb to the slaughter. But when I reached the shop, my mother was behind the counter tending to customers and my father was back in the kitchen working on a batch of caramels. They greeted me kindly and asked how my day was.

Melody was not there. I felt as though I should be relieved but something nagged at me. Something about the hatred in her eyes. It wasn't over. She was furious at me. She was going to get even with me for my betrayal. The only question in my mind was how she would go about it.

It was several hours later when Melody came home. We all sat down for dinner and she was her normal self. Chatting amiably with our parents. But she did not look at me. Not once. That night in our room, she got ready for bed quickly and slipped into bed, not inviting any conversation between us. I figured it was best if I gave her space and let her cool off so I slid into bed and slipped into a restless sleep.

When morning came I was exhausted, but I stayed in bed for several more hours until I heard my parents downstairs. It was the day of the reaping so the shop would be closed. They were probably making dinner for after the reaping. Since the reaping was in the late afternoon we would be hungry by the time it was over.

I got out of bed and washed my face. Melody was still in bed, but I doubted that she was asleep. More likely she was avoiding me as long as possible. I couldn't blame her really. She found that I had been lying to her for months. I had never lied to her before, at least not about anything important. I felt terrible, but how could I pick between my sister and the boy I loved. It was an unfair request to begin with, but I had been too much of a coward to stand up to her in the first place. Now I was too ashamed of myself to make her see things through my eyes, something I should have done a long time ago.

"I'm going to go get ready with Carlene." I told the lump in Melody's bed. She didn't move or respond, but I didn't wait long. I grabbed my dress and hurried from the room. Her silent treatment was making me so angry I could barely see straight. I stormed across the square and into the apothecary shop. Carlene's parents smiled at me but said nothing and I continued upstairs to Carlene's bedroom. Her door was open and she sat on her bed. My beautiful friend stared off into space and didn't even seem to notice me until I closed the door. The click of the door caught her attention and she looked at me. She tried to smile, but tears sprung in her eyes. I sat beside her and squeezed her hand.

"I'm so scared, Maysi." She whispered to me. "I've had this horrible feeling for days, like something really bad is about to happen."

"That sort of comes with the Reaping day territory, Car." I pointed out as I clutched her hand in mine, but I had been feeling the same way. I couldn't tell her that though. "Mellie found out about me and Haymitch."

"Oh no." Carlene whispered, looking at me in horror.

"It's okay." I assured her. "She's so mad that she won't talk to me, but she hasn't told our parents yet."

"Well, that's something." Carlene said patting my hand.

Mrs. Graydon called up to us that we had to be heading to the square soon. Wordlessly, Carlene slipped on a lovely blue dress and I pulled on my own white dress. It was too frilly for my taste, but I didn't really care. Gently, Carlene braided my long hair, weaving in several ribbons. It was silly, but I could tell Carlene needed the distraction. When she finished, I pulled her into a hug and we just stood there for a long time. Both of us trying to ease the others fears.

"It's time to get out there." I whispered to her.

"I know."

"It's going to be okay, Car." I promised. She nodded and forced a smile. I smiled back, but I doubt it looked any more genuine than hers.

We walk out to the square. Many of the kids had already gathered, separated by gender and age. We work our way to the section designated for sixteen-year-olds. We stand next to Melody who is wearing a light purple dress. She hugged Carlene, but refused to acknowledge me. I glanced over to the boy's and quickly found Haymitch, his hair was slicked back and he was wearing what was probably the nicest shirt he owned, but he was still so completely Seam. It surprised me to find that I really didn't care. There were several Town boys around him, but none of them could hold a candle to Haymitch Abernathy. At least not to me.

I smiled wearily at him and he smiled back at me. He mouthed the only words that could help me right now and they eased relief through me. He mouthed "I love you." I mouthed it back and for the first time that day my smile wasn't forced until I saw Mellie glaring at me. I stepped closer to her and looked into her eyes.

"I'm really sorry I lied to you Mel." I whispered so as not to be over heard.

"Not as sorry as you're going to be." She replied. All the warmth seeped from my body.

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"I mean I told Head Peacekeeper Grimes that that Seam boy was trying to get you to run away from the District with him. I don't think they look on talk like that too lightly." She snapped. "I wouldn't be surprised if something like that sends that boy swinging on the gallows."

"Mellie, no!" Carlene gasped. I felt Carlene clasp onto my hand, but I couldn't speak. She probably thought that I was going to faint, but I was to numb too faint. Instead, I looked over at Haymitch, completely horrified. He saw my expression and tried to get over to me, but before he could break through, the ceremony had started.

Mayor Wimple read through the History of Panem and the Treaty of Treason like he did every year and then passed the microphone to Beta Dinkerman the escort of District 12. She was dressed in what looked like a florescent orange jumpsuit and her short pink hair stood up in spikes. She jabbered away, excitedly for several minutes before with her most winning smile she said "Ladies First."

She hand swirled around the slips of paper until her fingers closed on the one she wanted. She pulled it out and slowly unfolded it, letting the tension build. It was always about showmanship with the Capitol.

"Ruma Thorpe." She called out. A wide eyed Seam girl, a couple of years younger than me staggered forward looking completely petrified. She stumbled up onto the stage and sank into a seat behind Beta. Beta chattered on some more about how exciting it would be to have twice the usual number of tributes and she assured us that this would be the best hunger games ever. Then she reached back into the ball and snatched up the first slip her fingers met. It struck me as strange, like she had planned to pick that particular slip. She unfolded it as she stepped up closer to the microphone.

"And our second female tribute is," She said, pausing dramatically. "Maysilee Donner."

I didn't even react. It didn't feel real. Carlene cried out in horror and clutched onto me, sobbing. Melody looked stunned and staggered forward holding me to her.

"Forgive me." She whispered as I pulled free of my sister and my best friend. I forced my face into an emotionless mask. I did not reply, I didn't know what she was asking me to forgive her for. The odds weren't in my favor; it was as simple as that. I knew Haymitch's eyes were locked on me. But I knew I would lose it if I looked at him so instead I stared straight ahead as I made my way to the stage.

I stared at the floor as Beta Dinkerman continued on with the whole production. As she moved on to the boys, she called on Thaton Mids an eighteen year old from the Seam. I didn't know him, I didn't even look up as he mounted the stage. I was completely unresponsive until she called the second boy.

"And our final tribute for the second Quarter Quell is… Haymitch Abernathy." Beta called out. My head snapped up so fast it hurt my neck. I found him instantly. His face was hard and his eyes flashed dangerously as he stormed up to the stage. He was angery. Because he realized instantly what was only just dawning on me.

We weren't drawn by chance.

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	9. Chapter 9

" _Forgive me"_

The words played in loop in my mind. Mellie had known. She had known the instant that my name passed Beta Dinkerman's florescent orange lips. She had known that it was her fault even before I could put the pieces together. This was a punishment, targeting me and Haymitch because we dared to dream of a future out from under the thumb of the Capitol. I saw then that we would never be free. In a matter of weeks, one or both of us would be dead. And if by some miracle one of us survived the arena, we would forever be tortured by an onslaught of what ifs. What if we had left this cursed place when the idea first crossed our minds? What if we'd gotten the future we'd hoped for?

But in the grand scheme of things what did two kids in love matter to the Capitol? Why punish us? Then it hit me. Dead in the arena, we meant nothing. But out in the wild. Beyond the Capitol's grasp we stood for something. We would become a story whispered between other young lovers. A symbol of something so utterly unacceptable. A symbol of hope. Freedom. That type of thing threatened the status quo. It threatened the Capitol's control. One person could not start a war, but a symbol could strike a spark. Symbols were dangerous and had to be destroyed.

Peacekeepers guided me into the Justice building. Up some stairs and down a few hallways. I was barely aware of where they were taking me until I was in a room furnished with more finery than anything I had ever seen in the district. They walked out the way they had come and I hear the door lock behind them. I felt trapped. I wanted to scream, to cry, to escape. But there was not point. Our moment had passed. There was no escape from the Games.

I sank down into the plush magenta of the couch. There was a window behind it that gave a clear view of the square. The crowd was already dispersing from the Reaping. I could make out two figures still standing in the middle of the square, clutching each other as though their lives depended on it. One wore a soft blue dress that I knew for a fact brought out her eyes, and the other a light purple dress which seemed so dull and lack luster compared to the vibrant couch I sat on.

" _Forgive me"_

I was going to my death and my sister asked me for forgiveness because she had unknowingly sent me there. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to have some emotion to cling to that would get me through the days to come. But I just felt numb. And that was the worst thing possible. I could feel myself giving up. I would never see my home again, because if I won it would be because Haymitch had died in the arena and that was not something I could survive. My eyes strayed first to the apothecary, the place where I had spent so many hours learning things that no longer seemed to matter. But it was also where I met Haymitch and therefore precious. Then my eyes traveled to the candy shop. My home. The place where I was safe and loved. The place I would never see again.

I thought of my room. I thought of the songbird in the cage by the window. Melody had given the canary to me for my fourteenth birthday. It seemed like a lifetime ago. I would never wake up to his trilling again. I would never do any of the things that I had taken for granted ever again. No more dinners with my parents. No more stolen moment with Haymitch. No more afternoons mixing herbs with Carlene. No more braiding Mellie's hair for school. Those were the things that made a person, the things that created a past and a future, and both were being ripped away from me.

I heard the door open behind me and regretfully looked away from my home and the future I would never have. My mother and father stood watching me. My mother's eyes were red and her lip quivered as she fought back the tears that I'm sure had washed over her several times in the past hour. My father did not look like he had been crying, but he was paler than usual and his hands trembled.

I pushed myself up from the couch and threw myself into their arms. As they squeezed me between them in a hug I would normally have found suffocating I tried to memorize every last detail about them, everything that hadn't seemed that important before. The fine lines that had formed around my mother's eyes and the deep groves in her cheeks from years of smiling. She always smiled. And it wasn't just to keep customers happy, it was genuine.

She did not smile anymore. She looked as though her heart was breaking as she pressed kisses to my face. They were the goodbye that she could not speak. My throat tightened painfully. I didn't want to say goodbye to her. I didn't want to be responsible for taking away her smile. My father's calloused hands caressed my face. I looked into his familiar blue eyes. He smiled at me, but it looked more like a grimace of pain than anything else.

"I love you both." I assured them. My mother made a choking sound and buried her face in my father's shoulder. He swallowed hard as though trying to dislodge something caught in his throat.

"Try to make it home." He requested. I nodded. I already knew that I wouldn't make it home. The few defensive skills I possessed I learned from Haymitch. But we hadn't spent our time together on things like that. I knew the odds weren't in my favor, and even if they were, it would kill me to leave the arena without Haymitch. No, I wasn't coming home, but I couldn't tell them that. I couldn't rip away their last shred of hope. I hated the thought of them forced to watch me die, so I tried not to think about it.

It was much too soon when the Peacekeepers returned, escorting my parents away. I choked back tears as they disappeared. I wanted to tell myself that I'd see them again, but I knew better. Before the door could even shut behind them, Melody slipped in. We stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. Before I knew what was happening she crossed the space between us and threw her arms around me.

"I didn't mean for this to happen." Mellie whispered desperately in my ear. I could feel her warm tears against my cheek. Instead of evoking sympathy as they had so many times before, her tears turned me to stone. The rage I couldn't find earlier coursed through my veins. I stiffened against her touch. "I never meant for you to get hurt."

"Oh really?" I replied, my voice low and cutting. "Because obviously getting Haymitch killed wouldn't have hurt me."

"Maysilee." She entreated desperately.

"You should leave." I replied, pushing her off of me.

"Please Maysi, I can't lose you like this." She pressed.

"Maybe you should have thought about that sooner. You know, before you signed my death sentence." I snapped. Melody backed away from me, her face stunned as though I physically struck her. I stepped toward her, staring her down. I wanted her to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that as I headed off to my death I held her responsible. "I hope you can live with yourself."

"Maysi." She begged, reaching for me, her voice breaking and her eyes burning with desperation. "Maysi, please forgive me."

I stepped away; I gave her a withering look of unadulterated hatred. The door opened and the Peacekeepers came in to escort her out. She resisted and they had to drag her away. She screamed for me over and over again until the door closed, drowning out her voice.

I turned away from the door. I was ready for this horrible day to end. I just wanted them to take me to the train. I just wanted to see Haymitch. I wanted him to tell me that everything was going to be okay. We would both know that it was a lie, but if we were together, we could pretend a little longer. I heard the door swing open once more, but this time I didn't turn to see who it was. I didn't have to wait long to find out though. After a moment, she was standing before me, looking as uncommonly pretty as ever.

"Car." I whispered and my voice cracked. I threw my arms around her and shook with the sobs that I was holding back. I wouldn't let the tears come, but I couldn't stop the visceral reaction that swept over me. She held me in her arms, stroking my still braided hair and cooing soft words of comfort. "I don't want to die."

"I know." She whispered in reply. It wasn't an amazing insight but it was comforting none the less. I let out a shuddering breath. Carlene lead me to the plush couch and we sat down, side by side, clutching each other's hands. Knowing it would be the last time we would ever provide each other comfort. It was the last time that my best friend would share my pain and ease it.

"I will always love you Carlene." I said as her hand tightened around mine. "No matter how this ends, please remember that."

"I will." She promised.

"And remember that you deserve to be happy." I pressed. I wanted to share with her all the insight a best friend should provide over a lifetime in my last few minutes. I wanted to cover all the things that I wouldn't live to see. Her growing up, getting married, having children of her own. I took comfort in the knowledge that while these things were now and forever beyond my grasp, Carlene could still have them. Carlene could have a future with the boy she loved more than reason. "Don't let anyone take the life you want away from you. You fight for it, you hear me? You fight for your future. And you fight for the future that I'll never have."

Carleen nodded, but despite her efforts to remain stoic she let out a gasping sob. I pulled her into a tight hug. "This isn't fair." She whispered.

"I know." I replied, my chest aching. I just wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head. I just wanted to forget the world. But I couldn't. "Just promise me you'll do it. Promise me you'll let yourself have love. Just run off and get married. Forget about everything else."

"I will." She promised. She pressed a light kiss against my cheek. "I will never forget you, Maysi."

"You will be my most cherished friend till the day I die." I said. She gave me a watery smile, we both knew that it would be an easy promise to keep. Because the day that I would die was rushing closer by the second. A thought struck me. "Oh, and Carlene."

"Yes?" She asked as the door swung open revealing the Peacekeepers. We both got to our feet and I walked her to the door.

"I want you to have my canary." I told her as I released her hand. "He sings that song you particularly hate."

"The Hanging Tree?" She asked. I nodded as the door closed, severing our life long connection. The Hanging Tree. The song she had always found so morbid and dark. I sang it because it was so tragic and beautiful. I sang it to honor those who had their lives torn away from them. Now my songbird would sing it in my honor. I returned to the couch and began to hum the lullaby. The hour would be about up. Soon I would be loaded onto the train and shipped off to the Capitol. Alone and wishing for all the things I could never have. I thought of Haymitch and that day out at the old house by the lake and our willow tree. I began singing softly to ward off the fear.

 _Are you, are you  
Coming to the tree  
Where I told you to run so we'd both be free.  
Strange things did happen here  
No stranger would it be  
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree._

The sound of the door opening once again surprised me. I stopped singing abruptly and looked up. My eyes met a pair of steel gray Seam eyes. I stood up quickly, but did not approach the woman across from me.

"Mrs. Abernathy." I said warily as she approached me. Her hands clutched something to her stomach and her eyes were rimmed with red. She must have come from saying goodbye to her son. My heart fluttered at the thought. I would be with him again soon. And then we would die.

"He loves you, you know." She said gently. Her presence was so different from the hard woman I remember from that night in the Seam. She seemed so sad and vulnerable.

"I know." I replied cautiously. "I love him too."

She nodded and continued. "One of you will be the victor."

"There are forty-eight of us, Mrs. Abernathy." I pointed out. "And it's pretty clear that the odds aren't in our favor."

"We both know this had nothing to do with the odds." She said. She was a clever woman. I saw where Haymitch's sharp mind came from. "Haymitch is resourceful. He will not be killed in that arena."

"I hope your right." I said, imagining for a moment the possibility that this could be more than a one way trip for Haymitch. That he could come home to more money than he could spend and be able to take care of his mother and brother. It was a nice thought. It made my imminent death a little easier to accept.

"I am right." She replied. "I said he would not be killed, but I didn't say he would not die."

"What do you mean?"

"If it comes down to the two of you, I think we both know he will die for you." She said, her tone was kind, but her words cut straight through me.

"I wouldn't let him." I replied without hesitation. "I'm not planning on making it home, Mrs. Abernathy. I'm just a girl from town. I'm not built to fight for my life. But."

"But Haymitch was born a survivor." She finished for me. I nodded, knowing she was right. She reached for my hand and folded something into it. "Please let my son come home."

"I will try." I promised.

"I was wrong about you." Mrs. Abernathy admitted. "You're not foolish like I thought, are you?"

"I don't know." I admitted. I felt pretty foolish. It was my own fault that I was here, that Haymitch was here. Because I fooled myself into thinking we could have a future.

"No," She continued. "You're like the Jabberjay. Others think they understand you that they can control you, but they're wrong. There's more to you than meets the eye, Maysilee Donner. Now go show Panem what you're made of. Show the Capitol they can't control you. Break their rules. Save my son. Make them pay."

Without another word, she turned and left. As the door closed behind her I opened my hand and looked at the gold pin she had given me. It was a Mockingjay. I smirked as I got the message. She told me that I was the Jabberjay. She told me to show the Capitol what I was made of, to give them something they never anticipated. I could not live through this, but I could leave a legacy. I could leave my own Mockingjay. I could fight for Haymitch, and he could do what I couldn't, he could survive. He was my Mockingjay.

I pinned the golden symbol to my dress. The Capitol could kill me. They could take away my future. But they could not take away the things that made me who I was. I was Maysilee Donner. And Panem would rue the day they gave me a reason to stop running and start fighting, I would make sure of it. I would fight them to my final breath, I thought as I fingered the bird on my chest and a halfhearted smile tugged at my lips, maybe even after that.

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	10. Chapter 10

It was a blur as the peacekeepers pushed us four tributes across the train station. Reporters shoved cameras into our faces, asking questions and snapping pictures as we struggled to board the train. I felt close to tears as I pushed past them. Haymitch was several people ahead of me, but for my ability to reach him, he might as well have been in a different district. I wanted him to look back at me and lend me a reassuring smile but I knew he wouldn't. He wouldn't give the Capitol that sort of power. He wouldn't let them know the pain they were causing us.

Soon we were on the train and the door was securely closed, protecting us from the throng in the station but also condemning us to our fate. Beta led the four of us tributes to our compartments and told us that we would reach the capitol the next day; also that she would fetch us for dinner in an hour. I slid my compartment door shut as soon as she turned away. I sank onto the fine bed that had been made for me and took deep, soothing breaths. I felt sick to my stomach and I wanted to cry, but I knew I needed to be strong, if not for myself for the boy I loved. I needed to make it through the next week with as much pose as I could manage before I was thrown into the arena. I needed to be prepared so that I could give Haymitch his best shot.

I walked over to the dresser with the Capitol supplied cloths. I pulled out a gray dress that was much finer than my own and slid it on. The fabric felt like cool water against my skin. Carefully I pinned the Mockingjay to my undershirt where it was not visible. The metal burned against my skin. It felt like my very own little rebellion. On the surface I was the perfect image of a tribute, a fresh faced lamb readied for the slaughter, but beneath I was really a wolf, prepared to take as many Capitol sheep with me as I could before I died. I smoothed down the dress as a knock from my door startled me. An hour had not passed yet so it couldn't be Beta. I slid the door open and lips crashed into mine before I could offer a greeting.

Haymitch slid the door closed behind us without pulling his lips from mine even for a second. His arms wrapped tightly around me. He clutched the watery fabric of my dress so tight that I thought it would rip. But I didn't voice that concern, what did I care if he ruined the dress? He could ruin anything that belonged to the Capitol as far as I was concerned. Besides, I didn't want to do anything but kiss him back with everything that I had to give for all the time that I had left. I felt so much stronger than I had all day, because he was with me. He was so strong and I could be strong for him.

"I'm sorry." He whispered softly against my skin as we both gasped for breath.

"It's not your fault." I assure him, pulling him closer. Any space between us made me feel horribly cold and alone. His arms tightened around me.

"I never should have let this happen to you." He growled angrily. "I should have taken you far away from that cursed place. I should never have let it come to this."

"You didn't know." I replied, brushing his dark hair from his eyes. "We didn't know."

He trailed his soft lips over my face. Kissing my jaw, my cheeks, my eyelids and finally his lips found mine, I sighed. I felt so safe in his arms like nothing could reach me, nothing could hurt me so long as he held me.

"I will get you home May." He promised me. The promise made my blood turn cold, because he couldn't know that my plan would make his promise completely impossible. "I won't let anything happen to you."

I smiled, but I could only hope that it didn't look as forced as it felt.

"I love you." I whispered into his neck.

"I love you too." He replied. His grip of me loosened. "But Panem can't know that, May."

"I think they already do." I admitted. He pushed me back so that he could see my face.

"What do you mean?" He demanded his expression stony, but I knew the anger wasn't directed at me. Before I could reply, he offered the answer. "Melody."

"She told Grime. I'm sure that's why we were drawn." I said. His expression relaxed.

"We can work with that May, the Capitol won't want the audience to know that we were sent to the arena as punishment. The districts wouldn't appreciate knowing that the reaping was rigged. They won't let this get out." Haymitch said. "That means they can't make a public example of us. There's no point in ensuring we both die in the arena. It wouldn't do anything for them. There's a chance one of us can live."

"If anything they'd achieve more if one of us lived." I whispered dismally. I imagined what my life would be like if I survived the arena, only to suffer through a lifetime without Haymitch. I decided that some things were worse than death.

"Exactly," Haymitch replied. I shook my head.

"No Haymitch." I said. "Just be with me. Stay with me until it's over. I don't want to make it out without you."

"Maysilee." He started to argue, but I silenced him with a kiss.

"Please, let's just spend every second we have left together. Let's forget it all." I begged.

"I can't let you die." He snapped, his eyes were hard, but I knew that mine were just as determined.

"You should go." I replied. He looked hurt and confused so I clarified. "Beta will be back soon."

He nodded and walked away without a goodbye kiss. As the door closed behind him I was struck by a troubling thought.

How could I save someone who didn't want to be saved?

This question was still plaguing me when Beta Dinkerman came to inform me that it was time for dinner. I trailed behind her listlessly as she led the way to the dinner cart. Haymitch was already there, sitting next to Ruma. Thaton sat on the other end of the table. Rather than sitting next to Haymitch, I chose a spot near Thaton.

I figured it was best to be discreet, best not to advertise that we knew each other, let alone loved each other. Too much time together in public and something might slip out. I was afraid of the emotions that brewed too close to the surface for comfort when I was with him, afraid that others would sense it.

I couldn't let the others see how deeply I cared for him. If I was going to save him from the Capitol, this was the only way. He was planning to die for me, but I wouldn't let him. I couldn't let it happen. He was everything that made my life worth living. If I lost him, I would lose my will to live. It would be better to die for love than to live because I was too much of a coward to save him. I knew that I would die either way, either at someone else's hands or at my own. I would have loved to be at his side. To touch him. To hold on to him for every second I had left, but that wouldn't help either of us. For now the best thing I could do was keep my love for him hidden from the Capitol, just like my pin, my secret rebellion.

I felt distant and detached as I ate my way through several courses at dinner. I talked little and laughed even less even though Beta proved to be quite talkative and surprisingly witty for a Capital stooge. After the last plate was cleared away, Beta led us into a compartment with a television to watch the recap of the reaping. I stared blankly as name after name was called summoning the districts children to their imminent death. No one really made a lasting impression on me. All but one would be dead in a matter of weeks, and if I had my way the one left would be Haymitch, so what did they really matter?

I wasn't even that phased when my name was call for the second time. But I stiffened when Haymitch's name was called. I realized as tears burned my eyes that I was far more disturbed by the idea of his death than I was at the thought of my own. That was good though, if I could just remember the reason why I had to keep fighting, that might make the end easier when it came time to die.

Beta began to jabber on about the schedule for the next several days as the recap ended. I couldn't make my mind focus on what she was saying. I was too busy considering my own death, and planning Haymitch's survival. He was strong. Losing me would hurt him, but not irreparably. I would be lost without him but he would recover. It was a strange notion to realize that I love him more than he loved me. It seemed like it should have hurt to realize, but I was grateful for the knowledge. He would survive me, perhaps he would even love again. Some strong featured Seam girl with gray eyes and dark hair and an iron will to match his mother's. I didn't like that thought, but it was better than the idea of him cold and stiff, gone forever. No, I would want him to be happy, even if it was impossible for him to be happy with me. He would move his mother and Paxton to Victor's Village. They would be content. Eventually he would forget about the ill-fated girl from the Town. He'd forget about the girl who died for him. I would be the girl who became a faded memory.

"Maysilee?" Beta asked, she had probably said my name several times. I wasn't listening. I looked at her and smiled. "Would you like me to wake you in the morning?"

I nodded and offered her my thanks. Beta seemed pleased by this and informed us she would fetch us for breakfast at eight the next morning. She then wished us good night and left. Ruma and Thaton followed her example rather quickly, most likely exhausted from the emotionally draining day.

I didn't move though. I was tired but I stared at the blank screen of the television again. I could feel Haymitch's eyes on me from his seat in a plush armchair to my left, but I didn't look at him. He wouldn't leave until I did, I was glad of that but I didn't want to talk, not just yet. I just stared, I didn't even blink. Just stared. I didn't know how to go on. I didn't know how best to handle this situation. Should I push Haymitch away or hold him tightly for as long as possible. I didn't want to lose a single second with him when there was no telling how many seconds we had left, only that they were numbered.

I felt the cushion beside me shift as he came to my side. His lips pressed against the bare skin of my shoulder and a thrill ran through me.

"Never again." He whispered against the exposed skin. I broke my stare and looked at him in confusion. "You promised you'd never say goodbye to me again."

His gray eyes bore into mine as he struggled to read my thoughts. I knew that my expression was blank and distant, not because I didn't feel all of this acutely, but rather it was all too much and I was drowning in the flood of emotion.

He wasn't sure what exactly I was thinking, but he had a good idea. He knew I wasn't planning on surviving. He wanted me to remember that I promised I would never leave him again, but that promise no longer seemed to matter. One of us was going to leave the other, the Capitol would make sure of it. What did it matter who said the goodbye?

"I won't say goodbye," I promised.

His expression turned cold and he grabbed my jaw a little rougher than he intended to.

"Maysilee." He whispered urgently. "Promise me that you will live."

I looked away from him. I couldn't lie to him, but he couldn't hear the truth either.

"Maysi." He plead. "You have to know how much you mean to me. I cannot live without you."

I turned to face him and wrapped my arms around him. I couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear. I brushed his dark hair out of his face and smiled at him. It hurt to smile, because it was a reminder that we could not stay this way forever. We didn't have a future. But that couldn't take away the future I'd imagined for us.

"I would have married you, Haymitch Abernathy." I told him, the words slipped out without any forethought. "If things had turned out differently."

Haymitch laughed even though my words were not funny, not really.

"I would have asked you." He replied, I laughed considering how forward and presumptuous my confession sounded.

"Do you think we would have been happy?" I asked as his arms tightened around me.

"I'm sure of it." He said. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

"We never would have been accepted, not by the Town or the Seam." I pointed out, but none of the difficulties we would have face with a real future seemed to matter now that they would never happen.

"Doesn't matter. We would have been together." He said. "That would have been enough."

"I guess there's not use in wishing for those things now, is there?" I asked, my throat tightened painfully as I thought of the wedding we'd never have, the children we'd never raise, the old age we'd never share side by side. Haymitch stiffened beside me and then let go of me. I tried to turn and ask him what was wrong, but his calloused finger pressed against my lips to silence me. He stepped in front of me and pulled me to my feet.

"Maybe we don't have a future, Maysilee Donner." He admitted. He stared into my eyes with such intensity that it was hard not to look away. "But I want nothing more than to share the present with you." He sank down to one knee. "Will you marry me?"

I stared at him blankly for a long time as the words slowly sunk in. I started to cry and threw my arms around him.

"Yes." I sobbed in his ear. I heard him laugh at me. I knew this would just make goodbyes harder, but I could take hard. I just wanted to live as much of my life as I could over the next few days. If I succeeded in my plan, I would be dead in a couple weeks. If I failed, I'd be dead as soon as I stepped off the train in District 12.

When the tears finally stopped pouring down my cheeks, Haymitch took me by the hand and we snuck through the train. We found the compartment that housed the kitchen and stole a slice of bread, a candle, and a couple matches. We found an empty compartment and knelt together in the shadows.

Haymitch struck a match and lit the candle. He looked so handsome in the soft glow of its light. Our fingers brushed as we held the bread over the small flame. The heat radiated through my fingers and another flame glowed in my chest.

"I will love you all the days of my life." Haymitch whispered the vow that I had heard at every toasting ceremony I had ever attended. "You are my beloved, you are my cherished one. May our hearts beat as one now and forever more."

"May we lift each other in sorrow." I continued as we flipped the bread which was beginning to brown on one side. "And may joy be ever near our home. You are my home."

"As I am yours, may you ever be mine." Haymitch whispered.

"As you are mine, I will always be yours." I promised. Gently we tore the slice of bread in half and fed each other from our half. We were not married in the legal sense. But he was my husband, far more now than we would have been with a slip of paper from the Capitol.

Haymitch blew out the candle and I lead him carefully through the train. When we reached my compartment, he lifted me up and carried me in. We closed and locked the door. I was sure Beta Dinkerman was fast asleep, and I doubted that anyone else would invade my privacy, but nevertheless we were cautious.

We made love for the first time. It was a perfect moment in our crumbling world. He held me in his arms. I knew he would leave before morning because we could not be discovered. I tried not to think about that though, or the days that would follow. For a few moments the world existed solely for us. The games didn't loom over us, instead we whispered plans for the future we would never have.

We decided the names we would give our children. A girl and two boys. He said he wanted them to look just like me. But I insisted that they should look like him. His hair, his dark skin, his strong jaw, and his eyes. His disarming eyes that made me love him so much more than I ever imagined I could. I liked the idea of looking into little faces that looked just like him. I imagine those babies, babies that will never exist. I felt a vicious flare of gratitude that our imaginary children would never die for the Capitol's amusement. For a moment I'm glad for our fate. We will never bring precious children with Haymitch's eyes into the world only to watch them be slaughtered. I pushed away my dark thoughts and returned to the paradise we created just for the two of us.

We talked and laughed and I could believe that fifty years later he would have held me the same way. He would have still looked at me with that quiet adoration that made me feel so safe and loved. He would love me even after the years had faded my pretty face with hardship and sorrows. He would have loved me in that imaginary future even more than he did now. We would have children and grandchildren, and in our world there would be no threat of the Hunger Games to steal them from us. In those stolen hours we planned out our entire lives. It was beautiful, but it would never be. I wrapped myself closer to him resting my head on his chest, breathing deep the smoky scent that was so distinctly his own.

I knew I was about to fall asleep, but before I did, I whispered something I wasn't sure he would hear and knew he couldn't promise, but I said it anyway. "Please don't leave me."

"Never."

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	11. Chapter 11

Beta's sharp rap on the door woke me suddenly. I sat up in surprise. I looked over half expecting to see Haymitch sleeping beside, but he was gone. Of course he was gone. He was far too smart to get caught. Still, I felt empty, alone in my bed. He was supposed to be beside me. He was supposed to be by my side until I breathed my last breath. I called back to Beta that I was awake and slid out of bed pulling on a soft blue dress that caressed my skin. It wasn't quite as smooth as the gray dress but still much finer than anything I had ever owned in District 12. Not that I owned anything anymore. I didn't even own myself. My life was claimed by the Capitol, and the rest of me belonged to Haymitch.

I slid open my compartment door and slipped into the hallway as he came out of his own room. His gray eyes locked on mine and he flashed me a smile. A secret smile. It vanished as soon as Thaton joined us. It changed into a scowl. The scowl that belonged to everyone else. His smiles were only for me. The one thing that was mine. The only thing that mattered. Haymitch.

I turned away from the other two tributes and walked off in the direction of the dining car. I hated these moments, the moments when the Capitol owned me, when they controlled my every action. I wanted to spend my last days my way, not playing the part of their puppet. But it was the only way I could protect Haymitch. My husband. The title made me smile, but it felt odd. It didn't quite fit. The feeling took me back, back to childhood. When I played house with Carlene and Melody. We were playing at being grown up, but we were not grown up, not really.

My stomach twisted as I thought about the previous night. I wanted to be with Haymitch. He was the only one I had ever wanted. But in the light of day our rash actions burned brightly. This would not help us in the arena. It was cruel of me. I was only making the inevitable worse for him. I would die. He would live. Haunted.

I wanted to scream. Every decision I made just seemed to make things worse. I just wanted to find whatever happiness I could in the next few days, but I did so without considering what pain I would inflict on the one person left that I loved. The one person I would willingly die for.

As I entered the dining car and took my seat, I noticed a person at the table whom I vaguely recognized. It took me a moment, but I placed him as a Victor. He won the games before I was old enough to be reaped. I was pretty sure he was from District 2, so his presence here confused me.

He noticed me watching him, and offered me a smile that I'm sure was supposed to be charming, but it sent an uncomfortable shiver down my spine. I offered a nod but didn't speak. I didn't trust my voice to be steady.

"Brutus, I see you have met Maysilee." Beta Dinkerman said cheerfully as she walked in, followed by Ruma, Thaton, and Haymitch.

"Yes, we were just getting acquainted." Brutus replied, his eyes raking over me. I avoided looking at him. He made my skin crawl. Haymitch glare at the Victor named Brutus, his jaw stiffening as though the thought of Brutus doing anything with me was not alright to him. His response helped a little. I knew there was nothing either of us could do, but it helped to know that he wanted to protect me.

"Brutus was so kind as to volunteer to help Sadine mentor all of you!" Beta informed us as Sadine Marikina, the one and only Victor from District 12, walked in. From the footage of her games that sometimes aired along with the others during the annual Hunger Games, I knew that Sadine had once been beautiful, but she wasn't beautiful any more. Years had turned her once fine gray eyes dull, and her face was sallow. I had heard people claim that she turned to morphling after her games, but I had seen that addiction first hand. My Grandfather drowned his pain with morphling as cancer ate away at him. He hadn't been there anymore at the end. He was something else, something that had taken my Grandfather's place. Wide eyed and gaunt.

Sadine almost looked the part, but though her eyes were dulled with time, her words were sharp. She was changed, but still present. She was still what she'd always been, and that was the problem. She didn't want to live with it anymore. At least that was my theory. She took a seat far from Brutus and began picking at her breakfast without acknowledging any of us.

I didn't like the idea of Brutus as my mentor, but I liked the idea of Sadine even less. At least Brutus might impart some advice that would get me past the bloodbath. I picked at the food in front of me but didn't eat much. We would be at the Capitol soon, and the thought had me feeling nauseous.

Beta introduced each of us to Sadine and Brutus. One never looked up from her food and the other never looked away from me. I decided to imitate Sadine and stared hard at my plate. Beta jabbered on for a while as we ate. About scheduling, then next few days, but I couldn't care less. I'd go in the direction they sent me, but I wouldn't do it with the eagerness Beta seemed to think a tribute should have. Eventually she excused herself and left us with our mentors. One ruined and the other ruthless.

"Do any of you have any skills?" Brutus asked as soon as the door slid shut behind Beta. Ruma shook her head and Thaton shrugged. District 12 didn't exactly impart a lot of wisdom on its children, except how to go hungry. Haymitch just glared at Brutus wordlessly. We both knew he had plenty of skills, not to mention a knack for surviving and the instincts of a hunter, but he wasn't about to volunteer that information. So I cleared my throat.

"I know plants. Which ones heal, which ones kill." I said slowly. I knew it could be useful in the arena, it wasn't uncommon for tributes to ingest some berries that they believed to be safe only to be responsible for their own deaths. Brutus smirked, probably thinking the same thing.

"Well, that's something." He agreed. "Not much, but something. Anything else?"

I shrugged.

"Get up, all of you." He ordered. We obeyed, Haymitch most slowly, of course. Brutus made us stand in a line. He walked past each of us, studying us as he went. Assessing us. Deciding who, if any of us, he was going to help. As he walked behind us, he paused behind me. His warm breath washed over my neck, and I had to force myself not to bolt. I had to appear strong, unbreakable. His whisper brushed against my flesh. "You're a pretty one, I'd hate to see what you'll look like when you come out of the arena. Come by my room tonight and we'll see what we can do to prevent that."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Haymitch's fists clench. I jerked my head almost imperceptibly, but I knew he'd listen. He wasn't rash. Haymitch knew exactly what he had to do. He was trying to get me home, and setting our mentor against us would not do either of us any favors.

"I'm not for sell." I replied smoothly. Sadine looked up and her glassy gray eyes locked on mine. For just a moment they flickered with life, but then she looked away. I felt Brutus's finger trail down my back. I couldn't suppress my shudder.

"Everyone has a price." He assured me. I couldn't take it anymore; I jerked away and glared back at him.

"Touch me again and it won't be me paying the price." I snapped. I stormed from the car and didn't stop until I was safely inside my compartment. I sat, waiting for the train to slow, to bring us to the Capitol. As I waited, I ran my fingers over the smooth metal of Mrs. Abernathy's pin. My pin. My Mockingjay.

I felt and odd shift that told me the train was slowing. Knowing someone would come find me if I wasn't with the other tributes and not wanting to give Brutus an opportunity to be alone with me, I made my way back to the dining car. The food had been cleared away, but everyone had returned to their seats, waiting. Always waiting.

I never thought I would be waiting to die, knowing for sure that I could not escape my fate. Even if I could I wouldn't want to. Brutus was right, everyone had a price. Mine was Haymitch.

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	12. Chapter 12

Ripping, tearing, plucking, and poking. Hours of torture with no end in sight. A single Prep team was shared by both of the District 12 girl tributes, so they had their hands full and their work cut out for them. When I was sure I could take no more, the woman with sparkling skin and purple eyes that had introduced herself as Kadya took a step back and looked me up and down.

"I don't believe it!" She trilled in her heavy Capitol accent. The male with blue vines tattooed over his arms and up the sides of his face, into his equally blue hair, who called himself Augusto joined Kadya and gasped appreciatively.

"If I didn't know better, I'd guess she was from District 1. Look at that hair!" He interjected excitedly.

"Those eyes." Kadya inputted.

"Stunning!" They warbled together happily.

"I'll see if she's ready for her." Kadya told Augusto. "You can help Amica with the other one."

The other one, it was like we weren't even human to them. We were simply new toys, and I was the favorite. But they parted ways and I was left in peace for a moment. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked different, but I wouldn't necessarily say that different was good. I reached up and felt my smooth, polished skin. It felt foreign beneath my fingers, like a mask of my face. Not mine, not really.

Kadya came back and pulled me to my feet leading me to another connected room. Two chairs sat facing the window overlooking the breathtaking Capitol. It was breathtaking, but not beautiful, just like the rest of the Capitol's sense of fashion. I could hear the steady drumming of nails on wood as Kadya guided me to the empty chair. The other chair was occupied by one of the strangest people I had ever seen. Black and gold tattooed in stripes on her face, like a tiger. Her eyes were a tawny gold. And she had whiskers. Whiskers!

"Tigris." Kadya said to the catlike woman cautiously, as though afraid she would eat her. "This is Maysilee Donner, one of your tributes."

"Leave." The woman called Tigris hissed at Kadya. Her tawny eyes turned to me as her assistant fled. When she spoke again, her gravelly voice took on a purring quality. "So, you're the girl who thought she could escape the Capitol? Sit."

I obeyed, but I didn't speak, I was to confused by her words. She glanced at my expression and laughed sharply.

"Just be glad they didn't cut out your tongue." She told me.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I whispered.

"I don't suppose you do." She agreed. "You're just a child, how could you be expected to know the ramifications of your actions. Running away causes a ripple, Miss Donner."

"I didn't." I replied shortly.

"No, but you had the audacity to think you could." She explained. "And it's a short hop from thinking to trying, and from trying to succeeding. And imagine that. Imagine if you ran away and succeeded. What would that mean?"

I sat mulling over her words. I had been fairly sure that Haymitch and I had been reaped because of what Melody told the Peacekeepers, but it was another thing to hear it for certain. And if this stylist knew something so seemingly trivial from a District, then who else did? Playing dumb wouldn't help me anymore. I had to get wise and quick, or else it would cost Haymitch's life.

"It would mean that it was possible to undermine the Capitol." I said. Tigris's lips twisted in what I thought might be a smile.

"And it would have given your District hope." Tigris continued. "And hope is a dangerous thing. It is the virus that leads to rebellion."

"Why are you telling me all this?" I asked.

"You're a smart girl." Tigris purred. "You'll figure it out."

Tigris got to her feet and beckoned for me to follow. She led me back to the Prep room and gave Kadya some orders about how to do my makeup before disappearing into her room once again. Kadya started to apply dark colors to my eyes, making them appear dramatic, dangerous. She was quiet for a while, a nice break from her constant chatter, but my mind was racing.

"Tigris." I said suddenly. Kadya jumped and looked around as though expecting to see the stylist. "She looks familiar."

"Of course she does." Kadya said in a hushed whisper. "She used to be the most renowned stylist of the Hunger Games. She used to have District 1."

"What's she doing here then?" I asked in the same whisper Kadya was using. She seemed to swell with importance, since she knew something I knew nothing about. I got the feeling that she didn't get to be the first to dish gossip very often.

"She's getting edged out."

"Edged out?" I asked, confused.

"You saw how freakish she looks, who wants a stylist who acts like an animal? She's like losing it or something. She keeps getting operations; it's so not fashionable anymore. She looks deformed."

"So she's losing her job?" I pressed.

"President Snow is trying to do it quietly, but she's not going out very gracefully, as you can see." Kadya gave me a self-satisfied smile. I smiled back but my mind was elsewhere, it was back with Tigris. That conversation was not that of a woman who was losing her grip of reality, rather a woman who was finally seeing reality clearly. There was something going on, I knew it, but I just didn't know what it was.

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	13. Chapter 13

Horrible. It was the only thought that came to mind as I looked at costumes for the opening ceremony. They look as though they may have been miner's jumpsuits at some point, but not anymore. Tigris had designed them into some crazy broad shouldered, short shorts version of a jumpsuit. I looked at Ruma and laughed despite myself.

"You look even worse." She assured me as we were ushered down to the bottom level of the Remake Center.

"I believe it." I replied as we stepped into the large open stable. "You'd think that they're trying to insure we die."

Ruma paled instantly and I regretted my words. Just because I had already accepted my own death didn't mean that everyone else had.

"Sorry." I whispered.

Ruma nodded, but she didn't say anything else. I wasn't expecting to make friends anyway so I sped up, just wanting to get the night over with. My eyes found Haymitch even though the stable was chaotic. He stood on the District 12 chariot on one side and Thaton stood on the other, leaving the middle empty the girls. I climbed onto the chariot, and was surprised when Haymitch offered me a hand up. I took it and as I took my place beside him, I held on. I could feel the tension coursing through him, the fear of being noticed, but I didn't care anymore and he didn't pull his hand away.

"Please don't leave me." He whispered my words back to me as the anthem swelled. I looked up into his eyes and smiled sadly as I lied to my secret husband for the first time.

"Never."

The chariot was crowded carrying four, and we were all smashed together. I clung to Haymitch's hand knowing it would be concealed from the eyes of the Capitol. The crowd roared as each chariot appeared, but as we rolled out the cheers seemed less enthusiastic. No one had high expectations for District 12. Why should they? We hadn't had a victor since Sadine Marikina. I plastered on a smile and waved.

I wondered if they had any idea how much I hated them.

It seemed to last forever, the loop around City Circle, President Snow's address, the ride back. It wasn't until I released Haymitch's hand in the stable that I realize the crushing grip I had on it. I gave him a look of apology, and he gave me a quick smile to assure me that he didn't mind.

We were taken to the Training Center, up an elevator to the twelfth floor. They gave us time to change and wash off our makeup and then we were summoned for dinner. After an extravagant meal that would have fed my family for a week back at home, we watched a recap of the opening ceremony, and Ruma was right, I looked worse.

"Training starts tomorrow." Brutus informed us as he turned off the television. He looked straight at me. "I suggest you get some sleep, I'd hate for you to be at a disadvantage."

He left for bed and Thaton followed him. Ruma stared at the television, overwhelmed, probably trying to sort through so many thoughts that they were suffocating her. Sadine stood up and looked at Haymitch and then at me.

"I want to show you something." She said broadly, and I wasn't sure who she was speaking to, but I followed her and Haymitch followed me. Ruma stayed, staring blankly.

Sadine led us up a flight of stair to the roof. It was a striking view of the Capitol, but Sadine kept walking. She led us to a hidden flower garden surrounded by wind chimes.

"I like it up here." She whispered suddenly, urgently. "It's very private."

"How private?" Haymitch asked, gathering her meaning more quickly than I did.

"Private enough for me to speak frankly." Sadine replied. "The Capitol knows everything. Your plan to run away. The train."

My cheeks burned and Haymitch stiffened beside me.

"And they don't care." Sadine continued. "As long as it doesn't get out. If it gets out, you both will die in the arena."

"Why are you telling us this?" I pressed. Sadine's eyes locked on me with the same fire from the train.

"I'm your mentor." Sadine said. "It's my job to keep you alive… As long as possible."

Sadine pushed past us and then stopped, looking back at me.

"Don't trust Brutus." She ordered sharply.

"Wasn't planning on it." I replied.

With that she left and we were alone on the roof. Haymitch took my hand and squeezed it.

"Quite the mess we've made, huh, Sweetheart." He said with a sad smile.

"There's still hope." I replied.

"Hope of what?" He asked. I didn't answer; instead I pressed a kiss to his lips.

* * *

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	14. Chapter 14

The next few days flew by. Hours of training, trying to learn something that would keep me alive long enough to save Haymitch. On the final day of training, the Tributes waited in a giant herd as we were ushered in one by one to do something to impress the Gamemakers. Some paced as they waited for their names to be called, others sat, starring off at some unseen terror. Haymitch leaned against the wall casually; his expression appeared very nearly bored. I knew it was an act though, because I could feel his eyes on me.

Slowly our numbers dwindled. Then only District 12 remained, and after that it was not long until it was just the two of us. As Thaton walked in to meet the Gamemakers, Haymitch slide into the seat next to me.

"We don't have much time." He whispered to me urgently. He reached up and I thought he was going to caress my cheek, but instead he grabbed the collar of my tunic and ripped free the Mockingjay pin.

"Hey!" I snapped in surprise, but I quieted when I saw his expression. It was far angrier than I had ever seen him. He seemed to weight the small gold pin in on his palm for a long moment.

"Did my mother give this to you?" He whispered finally, his voice a forced calm.

"Yes."I replied, unable to look him in the eye.

"And what did she tell you? That it was up to you to save me?" He asked in that same cutting voice.

"Yes." I admitted.

"And what did you say?" Haymitch pressed.

"That I would do all I could to get you home." I confessed. His jaw tightened, and I could see the edges of the pin cutting into his hand.

"So what? I'm just supposed to let you die for me?" He asked, his steely eye cut through me, but I straightened up proudly.

"Of course not," I replied, reaching out and gently prying the pin from his hand. "You're supposed to live for me."

Haymitch shook his head.

"I'm not the one coming out of the arena, May." He told me with a pointed look.

"I'm not leaving without you." I snapped. I crossed my arms and sank in my seat sullenly.

"I guess that means we're at an impasse." He said heatedly.

"I guess so." I said coolly.

"I can't go in with you, May, I can't be allied with you. I won't watch you get yourself killed. And I don't want it to come down to the two of us."Haymitch whispered, running his hand through his hair in distress.

"I'm doing this for you!" I said, my voice cracked in desperation.

"I know." He replied flatly. His voice told me that he was angry, but not at me. I had lost him. He was with in my reach and still I couldn't have him. Couldn't be with him.

"So this is it then?" I asked, my voice sounded so little and childish. Haymitch smiled sadly.

"I guess so." He replied.

"I love you." I whispered, I felt like those three words were a plea, a plea for him to accept my decision and stay by my side until the very end. I wanted him there at the end. If I was going to die, I wanted him to hold me and tell me lies that made it less bad.

"I love you too." He replied as he got to his feet and walked away from me. "It would be so much easier if I didn't."

"Maysilee Donner." The intercom called, cutting through the tension.

"Give them a reason to remember you, May." Haymitch said as the doors closed behind me. "Show them you're no one's pawn."

* * *

The Gamemaker's didn't pay me much attention as I came in. They were too busy eating and drink, talking and laughing jovially. Haymitch's words tumbled around in my head. He wasn't going to let me die for him, not if there was any way he could prevent it. If I wanted to save Haymitch, I had to take away his choice. I was going to be a tribute the Gamemakers would never forget. One they could never let leave the arena alive.

I cleared my throat to announce my presence, but they didn't even look in my direction. I tried again to no avail. My blood boiled within me. These people, these Gamemakers would soon arrange my death. They would kill Haymitch too, if he wasn't careful. I worried what he would do after I was gone. Would he just give up? No, it wasn't in Haymitch to accept defeat, regardless of the opposition. Haymitch would win this thing. I believed it with all of my heart.

"Hey!" I yelled suddenly. Several of the Gamemakers jumped in surprise and shot me annoyed looks. Others looked at me with mild interest. I wondered if the other Tributes had all been meek little lambs or ruthless lap dogs, doing their best to please the Capitol that deemed to destroy them. Was I the only Jabberjay among them? Was I the only one willing to defy the Capitol even now when we were all faced with imminent death?

"Yes, Miss…" The man dressed in the robes that distinguished him as the Head Gamemaker looked down at a tablet in his lap. "Donner."

"You're a coward." I whispered sharply. "You think you're so powerful up there, looking down on all of us. Our lives hanging from the threads clutched in your hands. You're not powerful. You may have the upper hand, but you are miserable, weak excuses for human beings. You disgust me."

"You're excused, Miss Donner." The Head Gamemaker snapped, his face purpling with rage. I looked him straight in the eye. The color drained from his face.

"I'm done when I say I'm done." I said so calmly and with such commanding power, the Gamemakers almost seemed to stop breathing. Every eye was on me, waiting for my next move, clinging to my every word.

"This impertinence will not be tolerated." The Head Gamemaker warned me.

"What are you going to do about it?" I asked coldly. "Kill me sooner? Oh you must feel really tough, ripping apart families, killing children."

"Speaking like that is treason against the Capitol." Warned a Gamemaker near the back, He was much younger than the rest of them, probably only a few years older than I was.

"How can the truth be treason? A government with no honor deserves no loyalty. Going to my death holding my tongue would be the real treason. Treason against every child who has died in these games. Their blood is on your head." I said, my eyes locking directly on the youngest Gamemaker's. "I am just one child, I have no power to stop you. But someday someone will. Maybe even someone just like me, someone who sees you for the cowards you are and has the courage to stand against you. I won't live to see that day, but I know it's coming. You should be afraid. Power is fleeting, and I promise you one day you will lose control."

The Gamemakers stared as I turned and walked away. I wasn't sure what they were going to do, but I knew they would make me suffer. I could only be grateful that Haymitch would not be standing beside me when their wrath caught up with me. As I stood in the elevator which slowly ascended to the twelfth floor, I couldn't help but smile to myself. They could kill me in the arena. They could make sure it was a slow and agonizing death, but they couldn't break me.

My district would mourn my death, but they would move on. Haymitch's mother and brother would get him through the pain. The Capitol would forget my name before the games had even ended. But the Gamemakers… they would never forget me. I took away their control, even if only for a moment, but that was something they would remember.

They had no power over me.

* * *

The tributes scores dragged on for what seemed like forever. I stopped paying attention after district 2. I just stared out the window absentmindedly. Haymitch watched intently. Sizing up the competitors. He was storing the information that would keep him alive later. I didn't need this information. I wasn't going to survive. There was something liberating about the calm acceptance that I felt. I would die so that Haymitch could live. It seemed like a good deal. It was always going to be him. I had always put him first, ever since that day in the apothecary shop.

"Maysilee Donner." Ceaser Flickerman announced, pausing dramatically before announcing my score. I glanced over in mild curiosity. "With a score of… One?"

I heard the sharp intake of breaths and all eyes turned on me.

"What did you do?" Sadine asked as an edge of awe crept into her voice.

"I started fighting." I replied flatly. I stood up and walked away without looking at any of them. As I left I heard Brutus chuckle.

"Too bad, she was starting to grow on me." Brutus remarked. I slammed my door shut. I stripped my clothes as I made the way to my bathroom. I turned the water as hot as it would go and stood under the blistering jets.

My body shook, and I might have been crying, but the streams of water washed away all evidence of my weakness. I sunk to the tiled floor and buried my face in my hands. I could be dead in two days. I doubted any of the careers would make me a target after seeing my score, but I had the nagging feeling that the Gamemakers has a special sort of punishment planned for me and they didn't want anyone else to finish the job for them.

"May?" Haymitch's voice cut through the steam filled bathroom. I could make out his silhouetted through the haze, but I did not reply. I had nothing more to say. He would not let me save him, and I could not let him die. I closed my eyes and let the burning water rush over my face. Then I felt him pull me to my feet and from the shower. A soft towel wrapped around me and then strong, safe arms.

"What are you doing?" I snapped angrily. I tried to push him away, but he held me fast. I tried to glare up at him defiantly but instead his lips crashed into mine.

"I love you." He whispered into my dripping hair. "No matter what happens after today, promise me you'll remember that."

"I promise." I replied, my anger fading. He didn't seem upset over my score, and my obvious self-sabotage, so I decided to press my luck. "I made sure they'd remember me."

A sad smile crept across his face as he pulled me even closer.

"That's my girl."

* * *

The next morning came too soon. As the sun spilt through my window, I blinked slowly, forcing myself awake. The weight of Haymitch's arm rested around my waist and my cheek was pressed against the warmth of his chest. I smile at the feeling; it was so right, exactly where I belonged, forever and always.

Then a knock came from my door and I sat straight up in horror.

"What?" Haymitch mumbled sleepily and I quickly covered his mouth.

"Be quiet… and hide!" I ordered in a hushed whispered. His eyes snapped open and he was fully alert in a moment. I pressed a kiss to his forehead and scrambled out of the bed. He hurried to the bathroom as I wrapped myself in a robe.

Slowly I pulled open the door to see Beta Dinkerman waiting, rapping her long striped blue nails against her arms.

"You're supposed to be working with Brutus in ten minutes." She informed me hurriedly.

"What for?" I asked, confused.

"Interview prep." She explained. I nodded that I understood. "Have you seen Haymitch?"

"No." I said abruptly. "Why?"

"He didn't answer when I knocked on his door."

"Maybe he's up already." I replied with the most casual shrug I could muster. Beta looked unconvinced, but left after reminding me one last time to meet with Brutus.

As soon as I closed the door, I heard the bathroom door open behind me. I turned and gave Haymitch an uneasy smile.

"That was close." He pointed out.

"Too close." I agreed.

He took my hand in his, interlacing our fingers and kissing the back of my hand.

"You will always be worth any risk, any price." He whispered and kissed me deeply. It was the kind of kiss with a number on it. The kind of kiss that had to count because there were so few left.

I broke away, afraid that my emotions would be visible to everyone if I didn't stop now. I buried my face against his chest and breathed deeply the smoky scent of his skin. Not even the Capitol could take away the things that made him what he was. The things I loved so dearly.

"You have to go." I pressed, opening the door and peeking around the corner.

"I love you, Maysi," He promised as he slipped backward out the door.

"Is that so?" Asked another voice and my blood ran cold.

Brutus.

Haymitch turned slowly to face the smirking Victor.

"That's interesting." He said smugly and walked away without another word.

Haymitch looked back at me, his expression of horror matching my own.

"It will be okay." I told him, more to convince myself than anything. He nodded and jogged down the hall to his own room.

"It has to be." I whispered under my breath. "You have to be okay."

* * *

After changing into a flattering blue dress, I walked to meet Brutus on the roof terrace. My feet felt like lead on every step but I forced one in front of the other and pressed on. I saw Brutus the instant I stepped onto the roof. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back looking out over the Capitol below.

"Brutus." I said, clearing my throat to announce my presence. He looked back at me and smirked.

"Take a seat." He instructed, gesturing to one of two chairs beside him. I obeyed and after a few moments of silence he took the other seat. "The interview is possibly the most important event. When it comes to the arena, skills matter little when the elements begin to take their toll. It's the public's opinion that can save you then."

I tried to cover my shocked expression because I had expected some comment on Haymitch, but he was all business. Then he noticed my expression and smirked.

"So is that the angle?" He asked abruptly

"What angle?" I replied confused.

"To win over the Capitol with your doomed romance?" Brutus explained. I shrugged. "Because the Capitol will eat it up."

"I'm sure they would." I said bitterly. Brutus watched me expectantly. "It's not the angle."

"So you love him." Brutus pressed. I looked away and he chuckled. "Explains a lot."

"So what now, you go and tell everyone?" I asked refusing to look at him.

"No." Brutus said sullenly. I looked at him hopefully. "Believe it or not I do want to help you."

"Why?" I asked skeptically.

"Because I believe you could win the Games."

I scoffed and Brutus looked me over.

"I said could, not will." He clarified.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You have fight, enough to scare the Gamemakers. I'm not foolish enough to believe you were so inadequate as to deserve the score they gave you. Whatever you did in there you got their attention. Any girl who can do that can play the game any way she wants because no matter what happens in the arena you are in control. I believe without a doubt that this game will end exactly as you intend it to." Brutus reached over and flicked my Mockingjay pin. "You're a fighter, and I'm not about to get in your way. I have rule, I always put myself on the winning side. That's you, Donner."

* * *

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	15. Chapter 15

"Breathe." Tigris purred in my ear. I stared at my reflection. My long blonde curls were pinned up elegantly. My gown for the interview was ash gray and flowing, it almost seemed to glow with an inner luminance. "You're beautiful."

My fingers trailed over my smooth, pale skin. My blue eyes were piercing beneath smoky lids. She was right. I was beautiful. I no longer looked like the child dragged from her home by the betrayal of her own sister. I was no child. I was a woman. I was a threat.

The Capitol should have feared me.

Sadine stuck her head into the prep room. Her eyes trailed down my figure and she nodded her approval.

"It's time for the tributes to gather."

Tigris nodded. I made to follow Sadine as she left, but Tigris wrapped her extravagantly clawed fingers around my arm.

"You're not done." She whispered conspiratorially. "You're missing the finishing touch."

She wrapped a shimmering black sash around my waist and pinned it in place… With my Mockingjay pin.

I fingered the cold metal thoughtful and looked up at the strange woman.

"Thank you." I whispered. She nodded. She did not smile and neither did I. It was not a time for smiles. The time for joy had ended. I had left the days of happiness behind me. It was time to wage war. My war. It was going to be me against the world. But first I had to win them over. I had to make them love me.

I could feel Haymitch's eyes on me as we watched the other tributes interact with Caesar Flickerman. District after District. Face after face. I would never remember them all, but I studied each face, mostly to avoid Haymitch's gaze. I had to be strong. I could not afford to feel, not now. Maybe later.

"You're on." A man told me. My stomach was in knots as I strode out onto the stage for deafening applause.

"Maysilee Donner." Caesar said in his booming voice. As I walked to the center of the stage, Caesar Flickerman stood to greet me in his dark blue suit. His hair was a spectacularly vibrant emerald green this year and his eyelids and lips were colored to match. "Now, you look like a vision."

"Thank you, Caesar." I replied with a delicate smile. "I wish I could take the credit, but I believe that Tigris has truly out done herself."

"As always." Caesar agreed. "But if I may, she had quite the canvas to work with."

I looked down and blushed with feigned embarrassment. All part of the show. The audience eats it up.

"So, Miss Donner." The host continued, the smile never straying from his face. "How do you like the Capitol?"

"Words cannot even begin to describe it. All I can say is these past few days have changed me." I said pleasantly. The crowd cheered. "My mind has most definitely been… broadened."

"Broadened?" Caesar asked, latching on to my word choice. He waggled his eyebrows at the crowd suggestively. They roared in appreciation. "How so?"

Taking my queue from Caesar, I throw his suggestion right back at him with a mischievous smile.

"Now, Caesar!" I reprimand playfully. "What kind of girl do you think I am?"

"Oh-ho-ho," He said with a smirk, "that's a dangerous question."

"What can I say?" I gave the audience a smile, "I'm a dangerous girl."

The audience roared in appreciation. Caesar opened his mouth to respond as the timer goes off, signifying the end of our interview.

"Well as intrigued as we all are, I'm afraid that's all the time have."

The crowd booed loudly but I soothed them with a final comment.

"Good thing, I wouldn't want you to get all my secrets out of me!" I teased, punctuating it with a flirtatious wink that drove the audience mad. Caesar kissed my hand and wished me luck before sending me off to make room for the next tribute, Thaton.

I watched the monitor stoically through the remainder of Thaton's interview and Ruma's after. Then Haymitch took the stage and my stony exterior faltered.

I chewed on my fake nails as I watched him interact with Caeser. His responses were short and snarky. He offered the audience no smiles, no love. They adored him for it. Some of his comments even made me laugh.

"So, Haymitch," Caesar started, "what do you think of the Games having one hundred percent more competitors than usual?"

Haymitch shrugged indifferently.

"I don't see that it makes much difference. They'll still be one hundred percent as stupid as usual, so I figure my odds will be roughly the same."

The audience erupted with laughter. Haymitch condescended to give them a half smile, as though to say he didn't really care but their reaction amused him.

That was my guy.

After the interviews were over, Sadine and Brutus guided the four of us back to our floor. A heavy silence had settled on all of us as we realized the time was finally here. Tomorrow we would go into the arena. Tomorrow we would die or we would become killers to save our own lives.

The other three tributes went straight to their rooms. I did not. I would not sleep, even if I could. I knew it would not help me in the arena to go in sleep deprived, but I also knew that sleep would offer no peace.

I stared out the window over the Capitol, still brightly lit even in the middle of the night. Parties raged below, celebrations of the games that would begin the next day. My heart pounded in my ears.

I was terrified.

It did not matter though. I would die soon enough, so why fear what I knew was coming. I tried to take slow steady breaths, but the world around me wobbled a little. I heard a throat clear behind me. Looking back I found that I was not alone.

Brutus was watching me. I did not know how long he had been there. I couldn't bring myself to care. I nodded to him and he came to my side. We watched the foreign world beyond in silence. After a few minutes, I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't look away from the window.

"I know how you feel." He said flatly.

"I know." I replied. He had been in my shoes before, walking onward to his very own death sentence.

"No, you don't understand." He argued. I looked into his dark eyes. They were not hard, or cocky, or flirtatious. They were sad. "I know exactly how you feel."

I sank down onto the window ledge and he took a seat beside me.

"I wasn't always like this." He continued. "I had a heart before my games. I wanted a future, to get married, to have children. I was very much in love once."

"But you volunteered to be a tribute." I had been young at his reaping but I still remembered it.

"Because I had to." He confessed. "It was the last year that I was eligible, and the girl I was planning to marry was sick. Really sick. District medicine wasn't strong enough to help her. She needed Capitol medicine to live."

He sniffed and when I looked up into his eyes and found them glittering with tears.

"I knew if I won I could save her." He continued. "So I won. I won because I had to. I did everything I could to save the girl I loved. Except, I couldn't do enough. She died two days before I made it home."

I wrapped my hands around his and squeezed them tightly.

"I'm sorry Brutus." I whispered. He nodded, pulling away from me to brush away his tears.

"My advice?" He whispered. "Stop thinking about the future. There isn't going to be one. Whether you live or die, your life ends in the games. So hold on to what you have now. And he's lying wide awake in bed… thinking of you."

I chuckled sadly and looked in the direction of the hallway where our rooms were.

"Good night, Brutus." I replied, standing slowly and smoothing the wrinkles from my gown. He nodded his farewell and his gaze returned to the city beyond, lost in the past. Haunted by a face he would never see again.

I glided down the hall silently and carefully eased Haymitch's door open. The door made as quiet click as I pressed it shut. It might as well have been a gunshot for when I turned to the bed; Haymitch was sitting up watching me, his eyes shadowed by the darkness.

"Hi." I whispered. His bare chest labored as he watched me slowly approach the bed.

"Hey." He replied, his eyes never straying from my face. As I reached his bedside, his hand wrapped around my neck and pulled me down into a deep, lingering kiss.

He trailed tender kisses across my cheek and down my jaw. I closed my eyes to hold back tears. I tried to forget that this night was goodbye. Tomorrow, when we went into the arena, we would no longer be lovers. I had to let him go. I had to let him live.

"I love you." I whispered into his dark hair. He pulled back, his gray eyes piercing me to my core.

"Until the day you die?" He asked a little coldly, but I knew it was the pain and fear speaking. I placed my hand on his bare chest, feeling his heart beating hard beneath my palm. It would keep beating, but one day soon, my own would stop. The sacrifice seemed well worth it to me. He placed his own hand over my heart as though reading my mind. I smiled sadly.

"Longer." I promised.

"Leave." He snapped, pulling away from me as though I burned him.

I grabbed his jaw and jerked his face to look at mine roughly. I stared into his eyes which sparkled with the tears I could feel in my own eyes. I leaned in until my cheek pressed against his and I breathed a whisper in his ear.

"Never."

* * *

"Mr. Crane?" I say sticking my head into the control room. Countless monitors display different views of the sleeping tributes. I spot Katniss and Peeta tucked away in their cave. The boy sleeps restlessly, his injury growing worse by the hour. He will die soon. He will become what I am, a faceless name lost to the games. I cannot let that happen.

Katniss brushes the boy's sweaty hair from his face absently. She loves him, even if neither of them know it yet.

"Yes Miss Trinkett?" Seneca Crane asks, breaking through the thoughts that have trapped me. I tear my eyes from the screen and look into the piercing eyes of the Head Gamemaker.

He is no longer the youthful Gammaker I condemned during my own games. He has grown to be a very powerful man. Almost as powerful as I. We both orchestrate our little games. He runs the games, I run everything else.

"Is it possible that I might speak with you for a moment?" I ask pressing my lips into a becoming smile. "I know it's a terrible inconvenience."

"No, no inconvenience." He assures me as he hurries to his feet. He whispers something to a man whose name I've made a point to know is Plutarch, but I have not spoken to him personally. I make a point of avoiding Gamemakers. I have nearly perfected my Capitol mask, but try I might, even after all these years, my hatred of Gamemakers is thinly veiled.

Seneca Crane follows me out of the control room and guides me to his private office. I close the door behind us as he makes his way to his desk. I watch him silently as he fiddles with a keypad on his desk. He looks up at me and nods.

"It's safe." He says.

"The boy is dying." I say.

"I'm aware."

We stare at each other for a long moment. Both too stubborn for our own good.

"We have the funds to save him…" I press. "Let us save him."

"Us?" He asks, raising his eyebrow skeptically. I carefully guard my expression.

"The boy should not die like this." I whisper, my voice breaking.

"Are you saying this for the sake of the boy, or the man?" He asks. I can hear a hint of jealousy in his voice, even though I am not his.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come now Maysilee." He replies with a disappointed smile. "We've always been honest with each other, no point in lying now."

"Fine." I say. "Why has a hold been placed on the sponsor donations?"

"We're preparing for a feast." Seneca says. My heart shudders in my chest. I can see what will happen. They will offer Katniss away to save Peeta, she will take it and get herself killed. Then Peeta will die, alone and feverish in a cave.

"You were never going to let them both live, were you?" I ask.

"You know I can't… It's all part of the show."

"Show." I scoff in disgust.

"We've got to sell the story." Seneca says sinking into the seat behind his desk. "The Star-crossed Lovers of District 12."

Seneca looks into my eyes.

"Sound familiar?" He asks, twisting the knife that few know exists. We both know how to create a good show. We know how to play our audience. He's very talented, but I'm better and he can't quite forgive me for my superiority. "You still love him, don't you?"

"Does it matter?" I say, walking to the door, my hand lingering on the handle.

"After all this time." He whispers so quietly I look back to read his lips. "Can you still not love me?"

"I told you that would never change Seneca." I reply.

"You can't forgive me for things that were never my fault."

"I told you, their blood is on your hands." I snap.

"I'm trying to change things." He says angrily. "You know that."

"Then prove it."

* * *

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	16. Chapter 16

I woke up as the light of the rising sun began to spill into Haymitch's room. He slept soundly with me wrapped in his arms. I wanted nothing more than to stay in that moment forever. Safe in his arms. Loved… Happy…

But all moments end, and our next moment had to be goodbye.

"Haymitch." I whispered in his ear, brushing my lips along his jaw, slowly making my way to his mouth. He woke as my lips found his and kissed me enthusiastically even before his mind had a chance to catch up with his body. "I have to go."

His arms tighten around me and he buries his head in my shoulder, shaking in violently.

"I'm not letting go." He whispered. "I won't say goodbye."

"Then don't." I replied as I pulled free of his arms. "Just say you love me."

"I love you."

"And you won't forget me."

"Never."

Haymitch grabbed my hand and made me look him in the eye.

"We both know, I know what you're planning." He said in a low husky voice, I nodded and his jaw locked in anger and sadness. "Don't do it Maysi. Don't die. I need you to fight."

I slid my hand out of his. My eyes never strayed from his handsome face as I slowly shook my head.

"I'm sorry Haymitch." I whispered. "But there's nothing you can do to save me. I'm not leaving the arena without you."

"And if I get myself killed?"

"Then I'll stop fighting."

"And if I live and you die? What then May?" He demanded.

"Then you'll live a good life. You'll find love again. You'll find a way to be happy, because you'll know that it is what I want for you." I explained.

"You're wrong May." He whispered. "I could never be happy in a world where you don't exist."

"Try?" I begged.

He looked away, he would not listen now, but I hoped one day he would.

"I love you, Haymitch Abernathy." I confessed as I opened the door. "That's never going to change."

As the door swung closed behind me, I thought I heard him whisper, "I love you too."

I hardly had time to change out of the gown from the interview before a knock came from my door.

"Coming!" I called as I fastened the last button of my tunic.

The door swung open to reveal Sadine waiting patiently.

"It's time to go." She said. I nodded. Our eyes locked, but neither of us said another word. This was a bad day. No matter how we spun it. I followed her to the roof as we approached the hovercraft, she put her hand out to stop me.

"You fight Maysilee." Sadine ordered in a low voice as the ladder lowered from the hovercraft. "Whether you plan to come out or not, you've got to fight while you're in there."

I nodded obediently, but that wasn't enough for Sadine. She grabbed my jaw and roughly jerked it up so that our eyes met. A fire burned in her eyes and her lips twisted in a half mad smile.

"You give them hell." She demanded. "And don't you dare let any of those kids in there kill you. You survive Donner. You die on your terms, or nothing else matters."

Suddenly as if the exchange had not even happened, she shoved me forward and I grabbed onto the ladder. Some sort of current locked me to the rung and I couldn't move as the ladder raised up into the hovercraft, or even when they injected a tracker into my arm.

When we reached our destination, Peacekeepers led me to my launch room where Tigris waited. She helped me into a form fitting jumpsuit that would do little to protect from the cold. I took comfort in the knowledge that freezing to death would not be something I would have to fear in the arena. We did not speak as she carefully plaited my hair. One less thing to worry about.

"Maysilee." She purred in my ear as she released the braid.

I turned back and saw her hand outstretched. In her palm was my Mockingjay pin.

"Can I wear it?" I asked. She pinned it over my heart and her amber flecked eyes locked on mine.

"Proudly." She replied. "And never take it off… Ever."

The intensity of her expression as she made this order made feel as though there was something to the situation I did not understand, but I nodded obediently. The loudspeaker announced that it was one minute to launch and Tigris guided me to the launch pad.

"Thank you." I said, adjusting my pin. "For everything."

"May the odds be ever in your favor," Tigris whispered, "Maysilee Donner."

Tigris dropped her hand and the tube closed between the two of us. Her words bothered me. It was as though she knew something that I did not. I felt like a pawn in some larger game. I was not in control and I didn't like it.

"Launch in five, four, three, two, one." The voice warned over the loudspeaker.

As the launch pad raised me up into the arena, I took deep, steadying breaths. I had minutes, maybe less, to prepare myself for the slaughter to come. I could only hope Haymitch would survive the bloodbath.

As the launch pad broke through into daylight, I blinked against the sudden light. Then I gasped at the astonishing beauty of it. All forty-eight tributes were positioned around the golden Cornucopia. Before us spread out a green meadow dappled with an array of the most beautiful flowers I had ever seen. The sky was a deep blue with puffy white clouds, and vibrant songbirds danced above, trilling lovely tunes.

I breathed deep the fragrant air and I smiled in pleasure. Then the gong sounded and I shook my head in confusion.

"Let the Fiftieth Hunger Games Begin!" Rang out the booming voice of Claudius Templesmith.

The required minute had passed and I had not even noticed. Haymitch had though. Of course he had. He was already at the Cornucopia. He loaded himself up with as many weapons as he could handle and the best pack. Good. He was already off again before I was even off the platform.

I was too late to make it to the Cornucopia. If I tried I would without a doubt find myself right in the middle of the bloodbath. So instead I ran forward several feet and grabbed a small pack. I glanced up at the Cornucopia. The careers were already there and heavily armed. They slaughtered the other tributes foolish enough to get in their way.

I watched in horror as a career cut Ruma down with ease. I hardly knew the other girl from my district, but her death pained me nonetheless. It also gave me the sense I needed to turn and run as fast as I could. To one side of the arena there was a snowcapped mountain and in the opposite direction stood a lush forest. I ran for the woods trusting my knowledge of plant to serve me best there.

I ran until my lungs refused to take in another breath. Even when I stopped, the images of the horrors of the blood bath raged in my mind. Ruma was dead, along with many other to be sure. I tried to block out the memory of the blood bubbling over her lips, but it felt as though it had been seared into my mind.

I sank down to the ground and wrapped myself in my arms to hold the many pieces together. I could do this. I had to do this. If not for myself, then for Haymitch. I would take out as many tributes as I possibly could before I died. I would do everything I could to make his journey home easier. I had never killed before, but I would and could if it meant keeping him alive.

It would be easy.

Growing up in the town had taught me to turn off my empathy. We had enough, but not enough to share. No food to give the starving child who lost her father in an accident in the mines. No blankets to spare for the old man from the Seam who would not survive another harsh winter night. I had learned from an early age to look away from those things in life that were unpleasant. To push them aside and forget about them.

I took steadying breaths and forced myself to forget. My compassion, my kindness, my heart. I could not be the girl from district twelve in this arena, I had to be something else, something without remorse or mercy. I could not be kind or loving. I could not worry about Haymitch either. He knew how to survive and that was exactly what he would do. I would do the same. I would survive because I had to.

Haymitch had fire, but I was cold. I would turn my heart to ice. I thought of my life, everything that brought me to this point. My own sister's betrayal condemned me to this fate, but I didn't hate her for it. I couldn't bring myself to care about the past. There was nothing that could be done to undo it, so I had to live with the path I had been given. I had to fight. And I would.

I sat up and gathered my senses, looking around at my surrounding. Instantly I hoped that Haymitch had left the woods as soon as he ran for it. I pushed away the thought. I could not afford the distraction. He was fully capable of taking care of himself. Everywhere I looked I recognized another poisonous plant. There seemed to be nothing in this entire arena that would not prove lethal. Haymitch pulled away from the cornucopia with lots of supplies, so he would not be tempted to investigate the plant life, and I knew better than to trust anything in the arena.

Haymitch was still alive. Somewhere in the arena he was alive, probably better off than I was. I had nothing a small backpack of supplies. But I would stay alive. I had to.

I pulled off my pack and sifted through the supplies I had managed to come by.

A bowl, some dried beef, a blowgun, and two dozen darts.

I rolled one of my darts between my fingers thoughtfully. I stared at a flower whose nectar I knew caused almost instant death. A sound came behind me and I whirled around. There was a single little squirrel, it looked so innocent, but my guess was it was not what it seemed.

Cautiously I reached back and dipped the dart into an exceptionally deadly flower. The squirrel slowly scurried across the mossy ground towards me. With a smooth, unthreatening motion, I loaded the dart into my blowgun. I stood poised to strike, but waiting for the animal to make the first move. The furry creature looked up at me and tilted its head to the side. It looked cute and practically tame. It's little brown eyes blinked up at me innocently, but I held my ground. Suddenly, it lunged at me snarling to reveal razor sharp fangs. I blew hard into the gun and the dart struck the squirrel directly in the chest.

It was dead before it hit the ground.

I let out a shaking breath before stooping down to reclaim my dart, jerking it swiftly from the small furry body.

I could do this.

The loud boom of the cannon made me jump. I quickly realized that this signaled that the fight at the cornucopia had ended so I tallied up the cannon blasts. Eighteen in all. Eighteen tributes were dead, such a large number it was difficult for me to wrap my head around it. Ruma and seventeen other children were dead.

The thought should have made my stomach heave but I didn't react. I was not meant for a place like this, but I was here. I was not a trained killer like the careers. I did not even have the survival instincts Haymitch possessed. I was from the town, I was not supposed to be a tribute. I was supposed to grow up and marry a boy from the town and have beautiful blonde children. I wasn't supposed to love a boy from the Seam. It was not the way this story was supposed to go. But here I was, standing over a dead squirrel, considering my lot in life as eighteen of my fellow tribute lay lifeless in the once beautiful meadow.

My mind wandered home to my parents and my sister. Did they still cling to the hope that I would make it home? Only a fool would. But hope had a blinding effect. I had hoped that Haymitch and I would have a life together I had hoped for a future. I never imagined our future would be a nightmare.

I wandered through the forest for the rest of the day, carefully scouting the area for a place to make camp and considering my options. I found a stream, and with it a dead tribute, which told me the water was not safe either. As the sun sank low on the horizon I mulled my choices. There were the trees, but I was not much of a climber and would likely fall to my death the moment I fell asleep, or I would be found and trapped, treed like a rabid raccoon. I didn't fancy either of those options.

The problem with the ground was exposure to other tributes and poisonous plant life. The key was to find plants that would conceal me without killing me while at the same time deterring company. It was nearly dark when I finally found a suitable choice. A thick tangle of briar that covered a twenty foot clearing. One look at the spiky branches would be enough to send anyone with another option in the other direction.

I had no other option.

I made sure as much of my skin was covered as possible, stuffed my pack into my shirt so that it would not get caught in the tangle of thorns and lost. I sunk to my knees and crawled into the space between tangled bushes. I pushed as far as I could despite the merciless thorns that dug into my flesh. When I was sure I could not be spotted from outside the briar, I rolled to my side and curled into the most comfortable position I could manage.

The sky was completely dark, but the temperature didn't seem to drop, rather is stayed warm and muggy. I sweated in my jacket, but didn't dare take it off. Better the discomfort of heat than the pain of the thorns. My tongue felt leathery and despite the hunger that clawed at my stomach I could only think of water. I would have to find some that was drinkable in the morning, because I wouldn't last long without it.

The anthem of the Panem trumpeted through the night and I shifted so that I could see the sky through the tangled branches above me. I bit back my humanity as I watched the faces of the dead appear on in the sky above me. I couldn't afford to think of them as people, people had family who cried for their deaths back in the Districts, they were obstacles that stood between me and getting Haymitch home. Each one dead was one less danger to Haymitch in this arena.

When Ruma's face appeared, I looked away. It was easier to pretend with the ones I had never spoken to, but Ruma was real and she was dead.

Nineteen dead the first day. Twenty-nine of us remained, meaning there were twenty-seven obstacles out there that would kill either of us without so much as a second thought.

The Capitol's seal replaced Ruma's face, and then the sky went black. I traced the Mockingjay pin over my heart, almost as close to my heart as Haymitch was.

"May the odds be ever in your favor," I whispered into the night.

* * *

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	17. Chapter 17

I shimmed my painful way out of the briar the next morning. Cautiously I made my way through the trees, my blow gun at the ready in one hand, my pack slung over my shoulder, and lethal darts clutched carefully between each finger of my other hand. A last defense if someone got the drop on me.

I traveled slowly, more concerned with staying invisible than getting to any particular destination. I had to find drinkable water, the pounding in my head made it difficult to listen for other sounds. I didn't see any other tributes that morning, neither did I hear any cannon blasts. I wondered if we were all doing the same thing. Desperately seeking water, waiting to be found. Waiting for the moment when it would time to do the unimaginable or lay down and die.

I heard crashing behind me in the early afternoon and ducked behind a tree. It was much too large to be one of the fluffy squirrels and I had not seen any other animal life besides the trilling birds inhabiting the branches above. I forced myself to take steady breaths and waited.

If it was a tribute, I would kill them as soon as they busted through the undergrowth. The sound drew closer. My breath caught in my throat and I pressed the blowgun to my lips.

It was not Haymitch, he would never make so much noise. He could race through far thicker plant life soundlessly. It was not Haymitch. But what if it was?

I decided that I would hold off, for just a second. Just to be sure. Then I would have a better shot.

A boy broke through the branches, falling to his knees. It was not Haymitch. I took aim and prepared to exhale the dart. The boy looked up, his eyes full of the desperate fear of prey, his face barely recognizable through the mud and scratches, but I recognized him. Thaton.

I hesitated; I didn't want to kill a boy from my own district. Before I could make up my mind, the choice was taken from me. I heard a strange whoosh as a spear hurdled through the air, it drove so deeply through Thatons back that it protruded from his chest. He looked up and his eyes met mine.

I saw the life leave his eyes as he fell forward and the cannon blasted.

Another boy stepped through the branches after him. A monster of a boy I thought I remembered being from district 4. He ripped the spear from body. Anger flooded through me when he kicked the dead boy. I blew hard into the gun and sent a dart sailing into his thickly muscled neck.

He reached up and yanked the dart out, looking at it in amusement. He looked up and his eyes found me instantly. He raised his arm and threw the spear at me. I jumped out of the way, but not quickly enough. It grazed my thigh and I cried out from the searing pain. I looked up, expecting to see Four standing over me, ready to finish me off, but he wasn't there. I got to my feet, ignoring the pain in my leg and stumbled back to the tree as the cannon boomed. The boy lay dead near Thaton. My poisoned dart was even more effective than I'd hoped.

I ducked behind the tree to spill the content of my stomach, but there was nothing to spill. Instead I dry heaved for the next few minutes until I regained control of myself. I felt clammy and shaky as I brushed the stray strands of blonde hair from my face.

I had killed someone and the worst part was that it had been easy, too easy.

I forced myself to put the dark thoughts behind me. I couldn't deal with them then; I would think on them later, I would mourn the loss of innocence later. I forced myself to retrieve the dart from the ground by the bodies. I noticed that Thaton gazed wide eyed at the sky. His eyes were horribly empty. I sank to the ground beside him and gently pulled his lids down. I pressed three fingers to my lips and brushed them against his cheek in farewell.

"Be at peace." I whispered.

Thunder rumbled above and heavy raindrops spilled down on my head. I didn't pay them much heed until a moist drop rolled over my parched lips. Desperately I ripped open my pack and pulled free the bowl. I held it out as the large drops slowly gathered in the curved basin. When there was enough for drink I gulped it down gratefully.

I helped it out eagerly waiting for more. As I waited, I decided that it was time to leave the bodies, there was no sense in staying and the commotion may have attracted unwanted company. I took another gulp and pushed myself to my feet.

I made my way back to my briar patch and squirmed painfully back into my shelter. I wedged my bowl in a branch above me to collect water. I stayed in my shelter for the rest of the day, and allow myself a small bite of one of my beef stripes to stem off starvation.

The hollow ache in my gut took me back to a particularly hard winter in my childhood. My father's shop had almost gone out of business because there was so little money in the district. We had nothing to eat for days at a time. It had been a horrible and scary time, but we had survived.

I wondered if that was the life that would have awaited me had I gotten to marry Haymitch in the District. Stuck in the Seam, caring for more mouths than we could hope to feed, freezing through hostile winters. How long could our love have survived those conditions? Would I have grown to resent him? Would he have stopped loving me when harsh reality of life had withered my pretty face? I wanted to tell myself that it would not have been that way, but as the rain soaked through me, I couldn't help but begin to doubt. Maybe this was a kinder fate after all. One or both of us would die and we'd never have to find out that love wasn't as unbreakable as we believed.

I felt better after several bowls of water, but as the evening began to darken the rain stopped and I was left once again with no water. I packed away the bowl and stared at the darkening sky. The thorns dug into my skin, but I ignored them. I leg ached dully from the graze wound on my thigh, but I ignored it as well.

I had just drifted to sleep when the anthem blared, I jerked awake. I looked up at the seal and waited expectantly. The first face I was greeted with was the boy from four, the boy whose life I had ended. Two more faces appeared, from seven and ten. Their cannon blasts lost in the thunder. Then Thaton.

The trumpets flourished and the sky returned to black.

I closed my eyes and forced myself to sleep, despite my damp clothes and the thorns.

I woke up when the noon day sun blared through the knotted branches woven above me. It was hot and uncomfortable, but I ignored it. I had no reason to leave my painful sanctuary. No driving need for water and none to be had anyway. As for my hunger, I would not trust anything in the arena as edible besides the few strips of beef in my pack.

I would be better off if I conserved my energy anyway, so I stayed in the brambles and tried to sleep.

That night there were no dead faces in the sky. Twenty-five of us lived to see the next day. Twenty-five of us lived to see the paradise turn into hell the next day.

I awoke the next morning to a horrible heat.

I scrambled from my nest as flames and chunks of rock fell from the sky. Dazed and confused I sprinted in the direction that seemed to be safest. I ran for what felt like forever until the bits of debris turned into ash. The air was still acrid and hot, but it did not sear my throat with every breath.

I picked a sturdy tree and started to climb. I had to know what was going on, what the Gamekeepers were doing. I was not a strong climber or very comfortable with heights, so I took my time. When I was high enough to see through the canopy, some fifty feet above the ground I looked back in the direction I had come from and it was like the whole world had caught fire.

Half of the mountain was gone and glowing liquid fire oozed down the slope, destroying everything in its path. The sky was dark with smoke and ash. Tears stung my eyes, and I gasped for breath, the realization of the horror I was beholding washed over me with the force of a tidal wave. In my shock, my grip slackened.

And I fell.

* * *

I wake up, gasping for breath, my body dripping with cold sweat. I'm lying on a cot in the district 12 control room, safe at home in the Capitol. I'm not in the games anymore, I'm safe, comparatively. But I've never felt safe, not since the games ended. My hands shake uncontrollably and the air in the room seems to elude me. I'm awake, but the familiar nightmares won't let me go. A warm hand takes mine and holds it steady. The dull light of the video screen illuminates Haymitch's face. I look up at him and the panic starts to subside.

"Breathe." His liquor laced breath warms my cheek. "It's just a nightmare."

"Is it a nightmare when it's real?" I say. The words catch in my throat. His arms wrap around my waist as he holds me to his chest. It is the first time in years that he has touched me in such a tender way, as opposed to the drunken groping at the reaping ceremony.

"Those are the worst ones." He says. He laces his fingers through my wig. He looks into my eyes as he slowly slides it free of my carefully pinned up blond hair. "But they're still just nightmares. They can't hurt you anymore."

I look away, because he's wrong. I'm living a nightmare and it hurts me every single day.

"The feast?" I ask as he sets the garish wig on the floor.

"Katniss drugged the boy. She's heading to the Cornucopia now." He says as he slowly lets down my blond hair. I can tell what he's doing. He's looking for the old me, the real me, well hidden beneath the years and extensive surgeries. My hair drapes across my shoulders in unkempt waves. His rough fingers smooth over it.

"They won't let them both live through this." I say. Rough lips drag across my throat and I gasp in surprise. Gray eyes meet mine and I am struck by their intensity. After years of an alcohol induced haze, they are clear and intelligent like those of the boy I used to love… still love.

"There's so much I want to say." He whispers.

"Don't." I reply.

He nods, he understands the tight rope I have been forced to walk. Maybe he doesn't understand it perfectly, but he understands enough to know that it's there and I'm teetering as is.

"Never." He whispers. A reminder of the promise he made me long ago that he would stay with me always, a promise that he never would have broken if he'd had the choice.

I reach out and straighten his wrinkled collar, never looking away from his steel gray eyes. There is nothing we can do to help Katniss and Peeta. If Katniss dies getting the medicine, Peeta dies also. If she lives… well it may be better for her if she dies.

"The nightmares haunt me too." He whispers.

"So you drink to forget?" I ask looking away from him and his disarming eyes.

With the warmth of his rough fingertips, he guides my gaze back to meet his own, "I drink to remember you. Drinking keeps everything else at bay."

"Everything else?"

"Everything that could distract from the memories."

Desperately, my lips crash into his. He pushes me away and with tears in his eyes he brushes my hair from my face.

"Don't leave me again." He begs, a drowning man clinging to his lifesaver.

"Never." I promise, but I know it's a lie before the word even leaves my lips. It's what I do. I lie. It's the only way I've found to survive.

But just for this moment, the years don't have to matter. The games do not exist and the Capitol has no power over us.

I am just a girl.

He is just a boy.

And even after all this time, I love him.

* * *

 **Sorry for the wait! I had eye surgery last week and I've been a little behind on some things!**

 **Please review!**


	18. Chapter 18

I woke up to the feel of rain on my face. My head pounded painfully. I had slowed my fall by grabbing on to passing branches, and managed to catch myself after about ten feet. I managed to climb back to the ground before I lost consciousness. I hadn't been seriously injured, but the world around me pitched back and forth as I sat still beneath the tree. I doubted that I could walk even if I had some where I wanted to go. I fished my bowl from my pack which took a surprising amount of effort and sat it on the ground to collect water.

Then I closed my eyes and fell back to sleep.

The blare of the anthem woke me from my sleep and I watched as a dozen faces appear in the night sky. With the aid of the volcano I was now certain that the rest of us were in the forest.

I could not afford to stay out in the open, exposed to anyone walking by, but I didn't think that I could move. I heard a tinkling chime and looked up to see a parachute slowly descending toward me. It landed in my lap and I opened the container. Inside was a single pill. It didn't look like much, but it was Capitol medicine which I knew could work miracles.

I popped the pill into my mouth and swallowed. Almost immediately everything around me seemed to steady. I drained the bowl of water and staggered stiffly to my feet, my body hurt but not badly enough to slow me down. I replaced my bowl in my pack and started walking in search of a new shelter.

I walked all night and through most of the next morning, but I didn't find any more briar patches. The Trees even seemed to be sparse in that part of the forest. The heat from the lava raised the temperature of the arena even at this distance. I was just about to sit and rest when I heard yells and the sounds of a fight nearby. I was about to turn and run when I heard a voice I recognized… Haymitch.

I ran recklessly through the trees, and branches whipped me in the face as I went. I stopped at the edge of a clearing and watched as Haymitch killed a much larger boy, another laid dying. He was going to be okay, he could take them even though it was three on one. Then suddenly, the third boy and only one still standing, managed to rip the knife from Haymitch's grip. The two boys tussled and the career pinned Haymitch to the ground, pressing Haymitch's own knife against his throat.

I raised my blowgun to my lips without a second thought and shot the career in the back of the neck. He fell dead on top of Haymitch and the cannon boomed. Haymitch pushed the body off, ripped his knife free of the corpse's grip and sat up. His eyes found me instantly. He nodded to me and I stepped forward, lowering my blowgun.

"We'd live longer with two of us." I said breathlessly. I hadn't realized how much I missed him until I saw his face. It was as though I had been waiting for this moment without even knowing it. Seeing him now I knew I could not turn and walk away. Not yet, the time would come when I would have to, but not yet.

He rubbed his neck, partly because his was thinking and the other part was ensuring that it was still wholly intact, he looked around at the three dead careers.

"I guess you just proved that." He said, but I knew by his expression he was not happy about this turn of events. "Allies?"

I nodded and stepped forward, offering him my hand to help him to his feet. He gave my hand a pointed squeeze as he straightened up, but quickly released me and turned away. He ripped the packs and weapons from the dead careers, passing some of the supplies to me as he did so.

Once he was satisfied that he had taken everything useful, he straightened up and started in the opposite direction of where I came.

"Come on." He called back at me. I jogged to catch up.

I didn't ask where we were going. In this place, I couldn't see how it really mattered.

We walked for the rest of the day, another cannon blasted in the late afternoon. Haymitch glanced back at me not long after that and his expression darkened. I could only imagine how bad I looked.

"We'll stop here for tonight." He said, shrugged off his packs and began preparing a camp. After he rolled out two sleeping bags, we sat down and sorted through our joint supplies. After surviving on nothing but a blowgun, a bowl, and a couple of pieces of dried beef, I was completely overwhelmed by my change of situation. We split up the supplies and packed them into two bags. We had dried meats, nuts, and fruits. Enough to last us a few days if we ate well, much longer if we rationed.

"When's the last time you ate?" He asked me as he passed me a piece of dried apple.

"It's been a while." I admitted.

"Take it slow then." He warned. I nodded as I forced myself to nibble my scant meal. I shifted down on my sleeping bag, enjoying the luxury of something soft to sleep on. The movement made me aware of one of the many injures I had ignored, the graze from the spear to my leg. Since I had no way to tend it, I had left it alone, and I was beginning to think it was infected.

I winced as I tried to peel the fabric caked with dry blood away from the wound to get a better look at it, Haymitch noticed.

"Are you hurt?" He asked.

"Not badly." I assured him.

"Show me." He said.

"What?"

"Show me," he repeated, "take off your pants and let me see."

I gave him an incredulous look, but he gestured for me to hurry up, so I pulled my pants off. I found I had even more injuries than I'd allowed myself to notice. The gash on my thigh was swollen and infected, but my legs were covered with little punctures and scratches from the briar and dark bruises from my fall.

Haymitch didn't seem surprised by the state my body was in, but I was. He just pulled out what medicine and supplies we had and looked up into my eyes.

"Sorry Sweetheart, but this is gonna hurt." He said and started cleaning out the cut. I hissed in pain at the initial shock of it, but managed to bite back any other reaction.

* * *

I lull half between waking and sleep, the steady rhythm of Haymitch's heart pounding beneath my ear sooths me. His fingers trace light circles on my bare shoulder blade. Even in this private moment, tense energy courses through his body. The feel of his body beside my own is all at once familiar and foreign. He is no longer the boy who treasured me like I was something rare and precious and I am no longer the girl who pretended our love would always be the same.

I love him still, will always love him, but we are both so changed by the years of pain and sorrow. He is mine and at the same time not mine, just as I will always his, but life has made me into something so different from the girl who once loved him so entirely. Everything I have done has been out of love for him, to keep him safe and hopefully one day find a way back to him, but that same love that I've used to protect him has corroded me. I wonder if he can see it, the things I've done, the things I will continue to do, and the pounding in my heart tells me that I hope he can't. I don't want him to see the jagged broken pieces of me.

"There was never anyone else for me." He whispers in my ear. "No one but you."

* * *

 **I know this one was a little short, but I hope you enjoyed it! If you have an interest in my original writing, shoot me a PM and I'll send you links to my pages!**

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	19. Chapter 19

After Haymitch tended to my injuries he insisted that I get some sleep so I curled up in my sleeping bag. I could feel his warmth near, but not touching me. It felt so foreign to be with him but not with him. It took me a long time to fall asleep but as I started to drift off I glanced up at him. He watched warily, the dark circles under his eyes spoke of his exhaustion but he looked well, strong. It was hard to believe that we had only been in the games for a matter of days, because so much had changed. I wasn't the girl from district 12 anymore. I had blood on my hands. I had killed people. And so had he.

I wondered if he felt as changed as I did. I wondered how broadly the changes had affected him, if he still felt for me the way he used to. I slid on arm free of my cocoon and my fingertips searched the moist earth for his hand. He jumped slightly when my hand found his, but otherwise restrained his reactions. His fingers curled protectively around mine, but his eyes stayed watchful. I smiled slightly, comforted by his touch and finally allowed myself to drift to sleep.

It seemed like I had only just fallen asleep when I awoke to Haymitch's urgent whisper in my ear, his hand clamped carefully over my mouth.

"Someone's coming." He warned me. His gray eye stared into mine waiting for the words to sink in. Fear gripped my stomach and I nodded slowly so that he knew I understood and slowly he removed his hand. I heard the crack of a twig and it was closer than I expected. Haymitch pulled his knife from his belt and indicated for me to stay where I was. I pulled out my blow gun and readied it as he snuck soundlessly in the direction of the intruder.

I crouched carefully watching for any movement in the dark. I heard noise nearby and Haymitch yelped in pain. I sprang instantly to my feet and launched myself in the direction of the noise. A cannon sounded as I burst through the trees. Panic gripped my chest. How could I have let him go? What if he was dead?

I saw the body immediately, a girl with a knife in her throat. I left out the breath I'd been holding only for it to catch again. I could hear fighting nearby. I swiftly snatched the knife from the throat of the corpse and dashed in the direction of the noise.

Haymitch and a tall, solidly build boy wrestled over a knife. They tumbled and scuffled until the large boy managed to pin Haymitch down. He used all his weight to try to force the knife into Haymitch's chest and it was all he could do to keep the beastly boy at bay. Desperate, I lunged across the distance between us and threw myself into the large boy.

My knife slid into his side as we rolled off of Haymitch, but the assault merely aggravated the boy. He quickly pinned me, his eyes wide with a fierce rage. His large hands wrapped around my throat and tightened like a vice. I thrashed but could not free myself from his grip. I began to see stars as the air went stale in my lungs.

Suddenly his grip slackened and he collapsed on top of me. My empty lungs struggled for air beneath his weight. Haymitch shoved the boy off of me and pulled me into his arms, hugging me tightly. He stroked my hair and I could hear his heart hammering in his chest.

"Are you alright?" He demanded his voice strangely heady, his grip on me as tight as ever.

"I'm alright." I assured him.

"What's wrong with you?" He snapped angrily, releasing me suddenly. Seeing him fully for the first time, I saw his face was covered in blood as though perhaps his nose had been broken. "You could have been killed."

"I was trying to help you." I snapped, his anger confused me. We were alright. We'd survived, so why was he yelling at me?

"You're so stupid!" He growled storming back toward our camp.

"So I should have let him kill you?" I asked chasing after him.

"Just forget it." He said as we reached our bedding. He sank to the ground moodily. "Go back to bed."

"No." I replied defiantly before sinking to my knees beside him. I grabbed a bottle of water and poured a small bit on the edge of my sleeve. Gently I reached up and began to wipe away the blood. Haymitch remained stoic, but I could see the pain in his watering eyes. Hesitantly, I brushed his damp hair from his forehead.

"Maysilee…" He started. His eyes told me he was sorry, that he wanted to take back his harsh words, but he couldn't say the words he wanted to. The cameras made him hold his tongue. "You should get some rest."

"No, I slept." I said softly. "Sleep, I'll keep watch."

He drifted off for several hours, but would wake in fitful starts, but when he opened his eyes and saw me beside him he drifted back into a peaceful sleep. When the sun rose, so did he. Quickly he gathered up our supplies.

"Come on," He said urgently. "We've got to keep going."

"Why?" I asked, but he just took off and I had to jog to keep up with him. I had to conserve my breath rather than ask questions.

* * *

For that whole day I chased after him and he barely stopped for rest or water or food. The cannon sounded three more times that day. Every blast of the cannon seemed to add urgency to his stride.

"What is it, where are we going?" I pressed as we stopped for water.

"What, getting tired, Sweetheart?" He asked condescendingly. Annoyed, I chucked a stick at him, which he dodged and continued on his way.

That night when we stopped, I didn't even wait for him to offer me to sleep first. As soon as I crawled into my sleeping bag I fell fast asleep. When he finally woke me up, I could tell that was early morning. He drifted to sleep for a few short hours and woke again, promptly with the sun. Again he hurriedly packed our bags and continued onwards.

I trailed behind him for the whole morning, but as the sun rose to the middle of the sky I stopped and leaned against a tree in protest. I was exhausted and sore from my many injuries and I knew that he couldn't be much better off. He heard me stop and looked back at me.

"Come on." He snapped brusquely. I raised my eyebrow at him defiantly and his expression softened. "We have to keep going."

"Why?" I demanded. I crossed my arms and stared him down; he glanced at my expression and saw that I would not move without further explanation.

"Because it has to end somewhere, right?" He pointed out. "The arena can't go on forever."

"What do you expect to find?" I pressed. It wasn't like we would find a ticket home for two if we found the end of this place.

"I don't know. But maybe there's something we can use," he suggested. I was taken aback by his use of "we" he had been so careful to keep his distance from me since the first night. Perhaps he thought distance would make the final goodbye easier. I felt confident that nothing would make it any easier to say goodbye to him.

* * *

Haymitch watches the monitor and I watch Haymitch. The medicine has helped Peeta and he is recovered enough to limp after Katniss as she searches for food. The defiance woven through her every movement reminds me so much of Haymitch. They are both so strong, so sure of themselves.

Peeta limps after her devotedly. He would follow her to the ends of the earth. He would die for her, but dying for her will not do her any good. Dying for her will only break her in the same way I broke Haymitch. To die for a person breaks something within them that can never be properly healed.

They separate because Peeta is too loud for Katniss to hunt and I can tell her patience is wearing thin. She cares for Peeta, but she does not love him, not like he loves her. As she stalks through the trees alone she seems so at peace.

Then the cannon blasts. Terror etches across her face as she races back to find the wounded boy. Haymitch pales, even though we can see that Peeta is alive and well on the monitor. He reaches for my hand and grips it tightly and I know what thoughts haunt him this time.

My Scream.

Electric Pink Birds.

Gasping for breath, choking on my own blood.

Staring up into his gray eyes as I die, clutch his hand as I try to hold on.

And a cannon blast.

* * *

 _Are you, are you_  
 _Coming to the tree_  
 _Where they strung up a man they say murdered three._  
 _Strange things did happen here_  
 _No stranger would it be_  
 _If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree._

* * *

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	20. Chapter 20

We reached a wall of hedge early the next morning. Five more tributes died the night before and three more cannon blasts went off this morning, leaving eight of us remaining. I didn't mention this to Haymitch, but I was sure he was just as aware of it as I was. When we came to the hedge, Haymitch seemed completely unfazed by it as though he already knew it was there and simply pulled a blow torch from one of the dead careers pack.

"Stand back." He warned me as he began to burn the bushes. He continued to burn his way through the hedge for the remainder of the day, his body dripping with sweat. I kept watch as he worked, half expecting another tribute to be drawn to the dark cloud of smoke we were creating, but no one came. Before the sun set, the Cannon blasted three more times.

I noticed a flock of pink birds overhead. They were delicate looking, but something about their garish color repulsed me and I wished they would choose somewhere else to congregate. As the sky darkened, Haymitch surrendered the torch and we made our camp in his clearing. We shared a sparse dinner and I bandaged his heat blistered knuckles.

"We don't have to do this." I whispered in his ear, he smelled of smoke and sweat and I found it strangely inviting. My lips brushed against his skin as I continued. "We don't have to find the end."

Haymitch turned his head to face me and his lips nearly brushed mine as he did. His warm breath burned my lips as he spoke.

"I have to do something May." He whispered to me, his hand found mine and tightened around it. "I have to try."

I nodded, understanding the words he left out. He had to try to save me. The realization weighed heavily on my. There were only five of us left now. Another day and it could come down to just the two of us. I knew all too well what would happen if it did. Haymitch would not let me die, not if he was around to prevent it. If it came down to it, I knew he would kill himself if it was the only way he could save me. I couldn't let that happen. I had to let him go, it was all I had left to give him.

It took another half day to burn through the rest of the hedge, and as we broke through it we found ourselves on a flat dry ledge which dropped off into a steep cliff. Haymitch staggered to the edge and stared down at the jagged rocks below.

I watched him but hung back, I knew he was disappointed, but I didn't know what he had thought he was going to find. The end of the arena wasn't going to offer a solution that would save us both. Nothing could do that.

"That's all there is, Haymitch." I whispered stepping toward him. "Let's go back."

"No." He said sharply, not even looking back at me, just staring off the cliff. "I'm staying here."

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. There was nothing I could say, nothing that would make this okay. I swallowed at the lump in my throat, but it didn't help. I stared hard up at the puffy white clouds above us as I tried to hold back the stinging tears in my eyes.

"Alright." I whispered around the tightness in my throat, I struggled to keep my voice steady. "There's only five of us left. May as well say good-bye now, anyway."

I saw his shoulders tense, but he said nothing. He was pushing me away. But what choice did he have? What choice did either of us have? I reached up and fiddled with my Mockingjay pin. I cleared my throat and ran a hand through my tangled hair.

"I don't want it to come down to you and me." I whispered.

"Okay." He replied flatly. I waited for a moment. For him to look back, to say goodbye, to do something… anything. But he just stared off the cliff, into the abyss that had consumed his last speck of hope.

So I walked away, knowing it was the end. I would never see him again. Never be able to tell him how much he meant to me. Even if he would have let me, I couldn't do it now, not here. I couldn't tell him that I would love him as long as I lived when it was only a matter of hours at most. I wanted to say goodbye, I wanted him to say goodbye, but it didn't matter now because it was just one of the many things that would never be said between us.

I wandered back down the path we had cleared. My eyes blurred with tears, but I brushed them away, trying to focus on the path before me. The path that would lead to my death. I didn't mind dying so much now, so long as Haymitch lived. And I was sure he would, for no reason other than to spite the Capitol.

I heard a musical trill and looked up. A flock of those ridiculously pink birds flew overhead. I wasn't much concerned. They weren't dangerous, they'd been around since the first day and never given me any trouble, so I continued walking.

Then one of the birds let out an earsplitting screech and they all dove down on me at once. I screamed as their sharp beaks and talons clawed at my flesh. I screamed Haymitch's name. I knew he was probably out of ear shot. Even if he heard me, I didn't know if he would come. I swatted at the birds, trying to defend against their attack, but there is no defense against the swarm.

"Maysilee!" I looked around just in time to see Haymitch, running down the hill, coming to my rescue. He was going to save me. He came.

Then a candy pink bird's beak pierced my throat.

The birds started to fly away, but Haymitch hurled his knife anyway and it pinned one of the birds to a nearby tree, killing it instantly. I stayed on my feet, swaying slightly, feeling oddly lightheaded. My bloody hand clutched my throat, desperate to staunch the blood, even though it was no use. I could feel hot blood pouring down my throat, choking me. I looked into Haymitch's steel gray eyes and sunk to the ground.

He was at my side in an instant. My head was cradled in his lap and he clung to my hand as though he was slipping away from me and not the other way around. I stared up into his face.

He came back for me. I should have known he would. He would always come back to me.

I tried to speak, but blood bubbled over my lips instead of words. I clutched his hand hoping that he knew everything that I couldn't say. He didn't speak either. He offered no words to make it okay, because nothing could.

I wanted to tell him that I loved him. I wanted him to know that I would never regret a single moment with him even though it led to my death. I wanted him to know that he was worth it. He had made it all worth it. I wanted to beg him to keep fighting. I wanted to tell him to win, for me, for us. I wanted to tell him I would always love him even after I was gone.

I removed my hand that still clutched at my bloody throat. There was not stopping the wound. I fumbled with my collar with desperate, trembling fingers and ripped free my Mockingjay pin. This was my sacrifice. This was the thing I was willing to die, really the only thing worth dying for. I would have torn apart the world to keep him safe. But that wasn't in my power to do. Rather I tore apart my world. I pulled out my own heart and let it bleed dry for him. Because I loved him.

I folded the pin into Haymitch's hand and squeezed it as tightly as I could manage.

Then everything all went black.

* * *

 _Are you, are you_  
 _Coming to the tree_  
 _Where the dead man called out for his love to flee._  
 _Strange things did happen here_  
 _No stranger would it be_  
 _If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree._

 _Are you, are you_  
 _Coming to the tree_  
 _Where I told you to run so we'd both be free._  
 _Strange things did happen here_  
 _No stranger would it be_  
 _If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree._

* * *

I run down the empty hallways. Katniss and Peeta won, only for the new rule to be revoked. Only one of them can leave the arena. President Snow probably thinks that he's orchestrated the greatest finale yet, but I will not let this happen. Not again.

I burst through the doors of the control room, but no one pays any attention to me. Everyone is transfixed by the horror unfolding on the screen in front of them. It's like a horrific accident happening in slow motion and no one can look away.

Peeta pulls Katniss to her feet, he seems to grow more pale by the seconds.

"Listen, we both know they have to have a victor. It can only be one of us."

How right he is.

I rush to Seneca Crane, the only person in the entire room not staring at the screen. Instead he stares at me, pale with a tight-lipped grimace. I think he knew I would come the moment it came to this.

I take his hand in my own and gaze pleadingly into his eyes.

"No, I won't let you." Peeta insists with as much power as his failing body possesses.

"Please, Seneca." I whisper. "Don't let this happen."

He reaches out and caresses my cheek. Tears spill from my eyes and he wipes them away.

"What else can I do?" He whispers back "One false move and everything we've worked for, everything you've worked for, collapses."

"Trust me." I beg and I hear Katniss echo my words. "This is the moment when you have to choose. Do you really want to stop the Capitol, or will you forever stand by and wait for the right moment."

"One." Katniss and Peeta's voices ring through the room.

"What if you're wrong?" Seneca demands.

"Two." They say in unison.

"What if I'm right?" I whisper.

"Three." Katniss and Peeta press on bravely.

"Stop them." Seneca calls out.

Trumpets blare.

"Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you – the tributes of District Twelve!" Claudius Templesmith shouts.

I look up into Seneca's dark eyes.

"Thank you." I whisper.

"He'll have me killed for this." Seneca replies.

I know he's right. I do not love Seneca Crane. I have never loved him, but he has loved me dearly for years and there is a sort of bond that forms between two people even if love is one-sided, and I feel my heart aching for him, for the sacrifice he made for the cause, or more accurately, for me.

"You did the right thing, you know that?" I ask, caressing his cheek tenderly. He shakes his head.

"No, I did the wrong thing," He says. "For you."

"Seneca." I whisper.

"You were always going to be the death of me, Effie Trinket." He says. "I just didn't know it until now."

He grabs my waist and kisses me with the desperation of a dying man.

"You've killed me, Maysilee Donner." He whispers in my ear. "You dangerous little bird."

* * *

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	21. Chapter 21

Are you, are you  
Coming to the tree  
Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me.  
Strange things did happen here  
No stranger would it be  
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.

* * *

My eyes snapped open and I gasped desperately for air, like some half drowned creature. My mouth was parched and cracked and my eyes burned at the bright light above me. The sounds of screeching birds and a cannon blast echoed in my ears.

I died. I was dead. I was sure of it. Beneath my fingertips I could feel a coarsely woven fabric. The blinding light above me glowed bluish. And the smell of bleach and sterility burned in my nose.

My neck ached dully where the bird had punctured it. I reached up to find the wound and found my throat bandaged. I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the light. The silhouette of a woman swam into focus.

"Calm yourself Maysilee." Spoke a strong, sharp female voice. "You are safe."

"Where am I?" I tried to ask but my voice came out in an unintelligible rasp.

Another figure came to stand above me and a warm hand guided my trembling fingers to wrap around a cup. I tried to grip it, but my shaking hand was too weak to hold it. The hand tightened around mine and guided the rim to my lips. I gulped the water greedily. My throat burned as I swallowed.

"Thank you." I croaked, my words working free of my damaged throat. I let my unseen helper take to cup from me. "Where am I?"

"You are in a hospital." The woman replied. Her voice was familiar, but I struggled to place it. My mind raced with a thousand thought. How did I get to this place? How was I still alive? What happened in the arena after the cannon blast? Was Haymitch still alive?

Before I could pose any of my questions the woman spoke again.

"We faked your death." She said. "The mutts claws and beaks were laced with a drug that stopped your heart, temporarily. In the arena, when a tribute registers as deceased, their tracker deactivates. We simply had to restart your heart once the hovercraft collected you."

"How?" I asked.

"An undercover operative." The woman replied. She leaned into the harsh light and I instantly recognized her steely gray eyes. Sadine Marikina, the champion of District 12. "Our reach is far, Maysilee Donner, further than you can imagine."

"Why me?" I croaked.

"Because," said a male voice to the other side of me. The one who had given me water. The voice was unfamiliar. "You are more valuable to us alive."

"Valuable to who?" I demanded, my throat was on fire, but I needed answers.

"Everyone." Replied Sadine.

"What would you want with me? I'm a nobody from an outlining district." I choked, each word tore my throat to shreds. My eyes water from the pain.

"You should try not to speak." The man urged, his voice gentle and concerned. I shot a glare in the direction of his voice and struggled to sit up and an overwhelming wave of nausea knocked me flat on my back.

"As far as Panem is concerned, Maysilee Donner is dead." Sadine informed me.

I closed my eyes but tears leaked from the corners regardless.

"And Haymitch?" I started. "Is he…"

"Alive. Champion of the Fiftieth Hunger Games." The man quickly assured me.

"Can I see him?" I asked.

"No. He can never know that you're alive." Sadine replied. "As far as anyone can ever know, you have to be dead."

"What you use do you have for a dead girl?" I asked, scathingly, but my ragged voice sounded weak even to me.

"Don't be ridiculous." Sadine said. "Maysilee Donner is of absolutely no use to us." A dark smile stretched across her gaunt face. "But you're not Maysilee Donner anymore."

Sadine handed me a mirror. The reflection that looked back at me was not my own. The Capitol face in the mirror was a stranger to me. I gasped in horror, raising my fingertips to my unfamiliar features. Sharply angled eyebrows. Prominent cheekbones protruded from the once soft curve of my cheeks. My lips were fuller and my nose more angular. Every feature was so very different from the face I knew, the one that had belonged to Maysilee Donner.

"Welcome to the rebellion Effie Trinkett." Said the man. He stepped into my line of sight. I recognized him as the youngest Gamemaker. I looked past him at Sadine who smiled grimly back.

"You stole my life." I whispered, fingering the unfamiliar features that were my new face.

"Yes," She said.

"I'm not me anymore, I'm not dead. What does that make me?"

"Useful." Sadine replied.

"Why did you do this to me?" I asked.

The young man smiled at me. He grabbed my hand, his expression excited. I pulled my hand away from him.

"You're going to help us tear down the System from the inside." He said.

"But why me?" I asked.

"Because you hate Capitol as much as we do." The man replied. "Who else would…"

"Seneca." Sadine cut him off. I looked at her harsh face.

"This was the plan from the beginning?" I demanded.

"No, but it became the plan when I saw that you were the one we needed." Sadine replied. "You're a survivor, a fighter. You're will be the Jabberjay."

"The Jabberjay?"

"The start of change." Sadine said. "Together, we're going to bring about the end of the Capitol."

"Welcome to the Revolution, Effie Trinkett." Seneca leaned in beside me. His dark eyes glinted and flashed with the feverish delight of uprising.

* * *

I clap enthusiastically with the rest of the Capitol as Katniss and Peeta are celebrated as the victors of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games. I have a jubilant smile plastered on my face, though I am anything but happy.

Seneca has been taken into custody. No official sentence has been announced, but I know every well that he will be put to death and his death will be on my hands. I wish I could go to see him one last time. Perhaps even out of the misguided hope that it would assuage me conscience, but I know better. This will not free me of the guilt. This is just one more of the many heinous deeds I will have to live with. I saved Katniss and Peeta, the star-crossed lovers of District Twelve, but in so doing a condemned a man to death.

I watch Katniss on stage with Caesar Flickerman and Peeta and I can tell that Haymitch has spoken to her. She's trying hard to play the part of the love-struck teenager. She is convincing. However, as someone who has spent most of her life playing a part, I see straight through her act. She's afraid and well she should be.

She will never be free now. Her life belongs to the Capitol and they can do with it as they see fit.

Just like the Rebellion did to a girl named Maysilee.


End file.
